


Falling Up

by etrix



Series: Falling Up [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cadets, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2008-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 47,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etrix/pseuds/etrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shin-Ra has imposed an autocratic class system that allows them to control the population, but it also allows a high-ranking gang to get away with rape and murder. To stop them, Cadet Cloud Strife, young and tempting, is recruited... as bait.</p><p>I took the structure of this world from Aoi Para's "Causes Stain, Stay Away" because I can easily see Shin-Ra imposing a repressive class structure and then exploiting it. My interpretation is, of course, completely different.</p><p>Chapters containing yaoi (m/m) will have a content warning. If you don't like explicitness just PM me and I'll send you an edited version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> This contains fairly graphic non-con and violence. It also contains some extremely graphic consensual sex. In response to a request, I created an abridged version where the consensual sex is mostly impressions, the non-con is somewhat toned down (it is a major plot point), but the violence is mostly the same. 
> 
> If that is more comfortable for you to read, the abridged version can be downloaded from here:  
> epub: http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?se6mx0pum0mogle  
> pdf: http://www.mediafire.com/view/?9kgiij4niz9evo4

* * *

"Cloud Strife; no middle name. Born to Autumn Strife after a non–consensual encounter with three higher classed Shin-Ra employees; Paternity unclaimed."

Cloud felt his face flush as Commander Lind coldly recited the facts of his conception. 'Non consensual' was a clean, clinical way to describe gang rape. He didn't say anything however. He'd known something was wrong as soon as he was called to the Commander's office. He was an average recruit, doing well in all his classes, trying hard to get to the next level of military training without drawing too much attention; hoping to hide in the teeming mass of anxious recruits. When he heard his name on the loudspeakers, he knew he'd been caught.

"It says here that you were born in Nibelheim fourteen years ago but that must be a mistake. Right, Recruit Strife? After all, everyone knows that the minimum age for military service in Shin-Ra is sixteen." Cloud kept his eyes on the floor, praying it would open up and swallow him whole. "Recruit Strife, did you _lie_ to the Recruitment Officer?" he mocked

He squeezed his hands even tighter together. Cloud swallowed. His mouth was so dry it hurt. He could stick to his claim of late birth registration. According to his squad mates, Nibelheim was a backwater pimple full of ignorant hicks. It was a common Midgarian misperception of any town other than Midgar and Costa del Sol. The Commander might believe it.

"Answer, Recruit." The Commander might believe it, but that smooth, cold voice said that the other man in the room would not. General Sephiroth, legendary hero, Commander-in-Chief of all of Shin-Ra's military forces. Cloud stole a quick peek at the uncompromising face. There was no mercy, no impatience, and no curiosity. He might've been a wind-up doll for all animation his face displayed.

Now Cloud felt sick. He nodded his head in silent answer, unwilling to trust himself not to throw up if he opened his mouth.

"Why?"

It should have been a question. It wasn't. The Commander pushed a glass of water across the table to Cloud. He reached out his hand, embarrassed to see it shaking, and gripped it. When he brought it to his mouth, it rattled against his teeth, but he managed to take a sip without letting any slop out.

"My mother," he started, his voice just barely reaching his own ears. He cleared his throat, took another sip of water, and tried again. "My mother isn't, hasn't been, well. Not for a while. It'll get worse. She needs," he took a breath, knowing he was stumbling through his explanation, "she needs, to get checked out at a hospital but, as an E, she won't be allowed to, you know, go to one. If I get accepted…"

"You'd be recategorized as a C and you could authorize her treatment," the Commander finished for him.

"Yes, sir," He finally managed to look at Commander Lind hoping to see kindness, understanding—something to give him hope.

"And it couldn't wait two more years?" Cloud shook his head, unable to explain the urgency that had gripped him the morning that he'd looked at her and seen her illness. It had been mid-winter. She'd been reaching for the bowl to mix up breakfast pancakes. Cloud had been sitting at the table chopping the chewy remnants of last fall's apples. They'd been talking casually about their plans for the day—laundry for her and math lessons with Tifa for him—when she'd flinched, and Cloud knew in a year and a half, maybe two, his mother would be dead.

"So you lied in order to save your poor, sick mother. Should we consider you noble, Strife and forgive you?" There was no kindness, no understanding in the General's voice. Cloud dropped his eyes and shook his head. _Damn it to fucking hell,_ he thought but didn't say. He rarely swore out loud.

He'd sworn once around Mayor Lockheart and his daughter once when he was younger. Something mild like _damn_ or _hell_ , he didn't remember now, but the Mayor had freaked. He'd made Cloud wash his mouth with soap, the cheap, burning stuff used to wash dishes. His ma had been angry that her seven year old son had been swearing, but she'd been _furious_ at the Mayor. Lockheart would never have done that to any other child in the village, but because it was a _Strife_ ….

Looking at the powerful men sitting on the other side of the desk, Cloud figured their reaction if he swore right now would probably be similar to Mayor Lockheart's had been so many years ago. He kept his mouth shut.

"You were 5'1" and 110 pounds when you joined," the commander read from the sheets in front of him, "you've added some height and weight since then. Not as much as we would expect from a sixteen-year old but then," he paused to look at Cloud accusingly, "you're not actually sixteen."

The water he'd sipped was burbling in his stomach like that weird science experiment he'd seen on TV when he first came to Midgar and had been willing to watch anything because he'd never had a television before. The Mayor had had one, the only one in the village, but of course, he'd never allowed Cloud to watch it.

"Shall I read you some of your instructor's comments?" That wasn't a question either. "' _Recruit Strife shows promise in most combat skills. His lack of strength and reach is offset by his natural coordination and quickness_ '. ' _Strife is intelligent and processes information rapidly. His written work shows a good understanding of the material; however he is unwilling to contribute his opinions in class_.' ' _Strife is confident and aggressive in one–on–one combat but is shy and reticent in group work or social settings_.' ' _Strife has formed no particular friendships with any of his classmates. He shows no preference for either male or female company. His sex drive is abnormally low for his declared age_.' It goes on to speculate that you are younger than allowed and probably a virgin. We've already cleared up the _confusion_ about your age."

Cloud had been staring at the Commander in wonder. His instructors had said those things, about _him_? At the last comment, however, he reared back in shock. His face, more than merely warm, he barely resisted the urge to bring his hands up to hide behind.

"Are you a virgin, Strife?" The General's voice, silky and bored, demanded an answer; demanded the truth.

There wasn't even the ticking of a clock to listen to, but finally Cloud managed to push the answer out, "Y-yes, sir." He went back to staring at the floor, so he didn't see the look that passed between the two men. It wouldn't have been reassuring anyway as it was filled with calculation.

"Are you going to kick me out, sir?" It was the hardest thing he'd done since he'd left his mother, crying, on the road out of Nibelheim, but he had to know. The two older men could draw this out for a long time, too long for Cloud's roiling stomach. Shin=Ra was the easiest way to become a class C citizen but it wasn't the only way and, if the Commander threw him out, he needed to get started on his other options right away; before it was too late for his Ma.

"How did the unclaimed child of an E citizen get D3 status?"

Fuck. If the Commander had asked the question, Cloud would've ignored it and repeated his own. He didn't have the guts to ignore the General though.

"My mother invoked Thane Law." He looked up at his interrogators, seeing puzzlement in the Commander's eyes and a narrow-eyed curiosity in the General's. "It's from before Shin-Ra. In Thane Law, the Mayor is the town's Guardian, sworn to protect and take care of its citizens. Because he failed to keep my mother safe from her attackers, then failed again when he couldn't get any of the Shin-Ra people to admit to the attack, he was technically at fault. She made him accept partial responsibility for me."

"Like a foster parent?" Commander Lind asked.

"Like a mentor," Sephiroth clarified. Cloud looked at him in surprise. _How had he known_?

"That's right, sir. I didn't live with him but I received the same schooling as his daughter; money for clothing and food, things like that."

"And so a lowly E learns how to read and write and do his sums, and gets bumped up to D class." The commander finally understood, "Clever."

"Yes, sir."

"How did your mother know Thane Law well enough to invoke it?" Again, Sephiroth was asking questions Cloud didn't want to respond. Again, he couldn't ignore the soft spoken, but very real demand for an answer.

Another sip of water delayed his response for a moment or two. The long answer would probably result in them looking at him and treating him the same way the townspeople had: badly, but there was a short answer that was odd but not completely off the wall. A quick look at the silver–haired General convinced Cloud not to try the short answer, but maybe something in between would be okay.

"My mother's family used to be the village Speakers. The old laws and customs are part of our family history

"'Speakers?'" the Commander questioned.

"Priests or priestesses. Literally, 'Keeper of the Words'. They were supposed to be precognitive and would spout prophecy at the oddest times. They were also supposed to be natural magic wielders."

Cloud felt as if his jaw was on his knee. "How do you know all that?" he asked, bewildered, before his mind caught up with his mouth. "Um, sir."

It was barely a smile, more like a quirk of the lips, but Cloud saw it. "I spent my childhood in the Nibel Mountains."

Cloud could only blink at him. A picture in his head of this overpowering man as a child running along mountain passes as he had done; falling and scraping his knees, stuffing himself with berries until the juice stained his lips and chin. He couldn't help it he smiled at the image.

Sephiroth frowned. It was his turn to be taken aback. He had seen pictures of Strife, of course, and had known he was a pretty child. His delicate features were dominated by large eyes and complimented by surprisingly full lips. During the interview, he had added shy and vulnerable to his description. However, it wasn't until Cloud stared at him in wide-eyed astonishment, and then slowly blinked, that he added tantalizing and erotic. As he looked at the boy's smile and his slightly parted lips, he wanted to slide his tongue softly into the warm depths, to explore the textures he would find there; to experience the taste of innocence.

Lind broke the spell. "Recruits aren't exposed to materia. And since he's too young to be promoted we'll never know if he has an affinity for magic"

Cloud looked at the ground in horror. For a moment, just a brief moment when he was staring so rudely at Sephiroth, the General had stared back and Cloud had forgotten what was at stake: his future, his mother's life, all his dreams and hard work. How had he managed to forget all that?

"Am I expelled then, sir?" He asked softly, unable to project his voice.

"You should be," Sephiroth responded. Cloud shuddered. "However, there is a situation you would be ideal for."

Hope. "A situation, sir?"

"As a recruit with a preference for the military, you would have been given information of what life is like as a Cadet." Cadet was the next stage of military training, where they sorted out fighters from peacekeepers and decided whether you were best suited for active or support duties. It was also where they recruited for SOLDIER and some organization called Turks that Cloud had never heard of before coming to Midgar.

"I see there is a notation from Instructor Fell that he took you aside and gave you more specific advice." The Commander stopped. Cloud was blushing again.

"Well, Recruit." Did General Sephiroth want Cloud to repeat what Fell had said? Surely it was there in the notes. He peeked out from under lowered brow to see the General's eyes watching him steadily. Odd, Cloud thought, in pictures his eyes always look silver but there was a hint of green in them too; pale green but rich, like the buds on an evergreen in spring. One brow rose in silent demand and Cloud stopped his musing and returned his mind to the here and now.

He cleared his throat. "He said that, um, I should find a mentor as soon as possible." He stopped and looked up; checking to see if that was enough. Both of his superiors had brows raised. Obviously, they wanted the whole thing. "He suggested an army officer or even SOLDIER because they had reputation and rank enough to stop others from, um, preying on me, you know, sexually. He was just being alarming, right, scaring the country boy?"

"Unfortunately not," Sephiroth answered.

"Oh," Cloud couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd wanted it to be a joke, just another one of the nasty teases he'd been subjected to because of his hair, his hometown, his size, or his class, but he hadn't quite believed it. Inspector Fell was one of the decent ones.

"There has always been a shortage of women in the military, but even if the ratio was one-to-one, there would still be a group of men preying on those more vulnerable than themselves. Mentoring has, for the most part, kept things under control."

"Most bullies are also arrogant and stupid which makes them easy to catch. Or they surround themselves with sycophants and cowards who are only too willing to give them up to anyone they perceive as stronger." There was an odd look on the General's face, one of sly satisfaction. Cloud could only assume that the General spoke from personal experience. He didn't doubt he would be the strongest person in the room in any situation.

"However, there's a new group that is preying on my trainees."

"Our trainees," Sephiroth corrected.

"Our trainees... and the army privates and the civil guard patrollers. The only low level personnel that haven't been preyed upon are the SOLDIER Third classes."

"I've given them permission to use whatever means necessary to protect themselves, up to and including deadly force." This time Sephiroth's smile wasn't gentle or hidden; it was a hunting wolf's display of sharp, deadly weapons. Cloud swallowed. Maybe another small sip of water would be okay.

"We know who they are; their leader is an A4, but all their victims have been B4 or lower and have refused to identify their attackers formally. There is no similarity in looks which leads us to believe that victims are picked based on their Class alone."

It was smart... wicked, but smart. Most crimes, even rape and murder, weren't prosecuted if the perpetrator was two or more classes above the victim. After all, Cloud had heard one news commentator say, there had to be some perks to being higher classed. Understanding the reasoning behind how the gang chose their victims made Cloud very nervous. He was D3. Even if it was higher than the level he'd been born to, here in Shin-Ra, he had been the lowest ranked recruit in his class.

"You think they'd, um, attack me?" he asked hesitantly.

"With your looks, they wouldn't be the only ones." Cloud looked at the General in surprise at the compliment. He cursed his pale mountain skin as he felt himself blush.

"So you're, um, saying it isn't s-safe for me to continue at Shin-Ra."

Now the Commander displayed his shark like smile, "Here's the thing, Strife. Neither the General nor I believe that this kind of thing is good for the forces. Preying on your fellow service members weakens morale and erodes discipline, and we want it stopped. And you're the perfect bait."

 _Shit, shit shit_. Of course he'd known what was coming as soon as they'd mentioned being unable to prosecute the gang. Warning sirens were going off very loudly in his mind. "Why am I perfect, sir?" It was a stall, he already had a good idea, but he needed time to think.

"You're pretty and vulnerable. Irresistible in fact." If Sephiroth's smirk was any indication, he knew exactly why Cloud had asked and he had phrased his response in a manner guaranteed to cause the boy maximum embarrassment. It worked. Cloud's face was flaming red, "You're also only fourteen."

Commander Lind picked up the explanation, "There aren't many rules Shin-Ra sticks to, but the age of consent is one of them. It won't matter what class they are, what age they think you are. When it's revealed that they attacked a minor…" He didn't have to finish the sentence. People had been hung for raping children.

"There would have to be penetration. Just physically harassing you wouldn't be enough, considering the difference in class. And we would have to get the attack on tape or they could claim it was teasing that got out of hand." The general's dispassionate tone somehow made it seem more horrible.

Cloud realized they were negotiating; His raped and violated body in return for… what?

"We will arrange for you to have backup, someone posing as your mentor who will keep all the others off you until the target group makes its move. At that point he will call for support and do the taping."

He knew one thing he wanted more than anything: "I want my mother's treatment authorized immediately."

"As soon as the operation is a success."

"Not later. As soon as we've signed the contract." His breath was coming in jerky fits. He was arguing with his commanding officer, with his class B1 commanding officer. "And she'll need transport to the hospital; whichever one's nearest." He couldn't look at them, he couldn't, but he wasn't going to back down. His mother needed the treatment. He'd leave Shin-Ra if they didn't agree.

"That can be arranged." General Sephiroth said it so it would be done. "Commander Lind will draw up a contract…"

Cloud didn't know whether to jump for joy or throw up at the release of tension. He did neither. Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to slow down his heart and sooth his clenching stomach. "One last thing—request. I, um... It's just... _shit_ ," he muttered. "I don't want my first time to be rape."

The gruff commander coughed, as if Cloud had shocked him by saying plainly what he'd agreed to do. Sephiroth smiled, a full smile, but with a sly sensuousness that disturbed Cloud almost more than the thought of being raped. "Are you asking one of us to do the honours?" he asked delicately. Sephiroth's smile deepened when Cloud's cheeks flared and he tried to stutter out a denial. He just wanted somebody kind and patient and nice and not too ugly.

It was strange how appealing the vision of a naked Cloud Strife, spread out beneath him, was to the general. He could picture that pretty mouth gasping out his name as he moved inside him. However, Sephiroth had learned long ago to limit his sexual partners to those who had been altered enough to survive the experience. Mako wasn't the only thing in his veins. Professor Hojo had injected him with an ocean's worth of chemicals and other substances. The combination, even diluted in his semen, had proven to be occasionally lethal.

"We would be asking someone to break the law," Lind started, refusal in his voice. He was a military commander, not a dating service and not a pimp. Sephiroth cut him off, "It will be arranged."

 _Okay_ , Cloud thought, _it's done_. _Ma's going to be okay. I've got a chance at becoming more than that weird little Strife. Everything was going to be fine_.

He swallowed "Sirs, um, where's the nearest bathroom? I need to throw up."


	2. The Proposal

* * *

Cloud sat in the classes with hundreds of other teenagers, listening to instructors telling them what to expect in this last week of initiation: when the announcements would be made, where to go if you were accepted into which program, what to do if you didn't get the one you wanted, which happened a lot; kids wanting to be scientists were trained as accountants instead. After all, Shin-Ra ran the recruitment program to benefit Shin-Ra.

Cloud, when he wasn't thinking about his personal future, was amazed at the scope of Shin-Ra's recruitment program. Out of the over 300 kids who had survived initiation, less than twenty weren't going on to some sort of specialized training—and this was just one class. There would be another one starting in two weeks. What did Shin-Ra do with them all?

Results were announced in the middle of the week. Graduation ceremonies and packing took up the rest of the days and then they all had a week off. Most were going with friends to get very drunk in Midgar, Kalm or, for a lucky few, Costa del Sol. Others were going home to spend time with families they hadn't seen since starting the program.

There were a few, like Cloud, who were too poor and whose families were too distant for them to leave the Shin-Ra compound. For them, the company would keep the cafeteria open although with shorter hours and a smaller menu. They would have to move into a more compact dorm as the other rooms were cleaned and refurbished before the next batch of recruits came.

Cloud worried about that. In a smaller group, he would be more exposed. There was a greater chance that one of the others would realize that he wasn't sixteen and report him. He needn't have. When the day came for him to move into the temporary quarters, a man showed up. He wasn't especially tall, he wasn't especially strong, he wasn't especially anything, but Cloud knew that he was a very dangerous man.

"Cadet Cloud Strife?" his voice was monotone as bland as the dark blue shirt and plain white shirt combination he was wearing. Cloud wondered how many weapons the man was hiding.

"Yes, sir."

"I am Tseng. Commander Lind asked me to fetch you. He's arranged for you to have someplace to stay during break."

Someplace more private, Cloud suddenly understood, where I can illegally lose my virginity to a stranger in preparation for my rape. He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Yes, sir," he repeated.

"You can call me Tseng."

"Um, no. I don't think I can, sir. I'll just grab my toothbrush and stuff."

The man nodded and stood in the doorway completely at ease, completely alert and completely intimidating. Cloud fumbled putting his last few personal items into his duffel.

He followed Tseng through the hallways to the main entrance to the training complex. There was a car waiting for him, with another man dressed the same as his escort. Cloud realized it was a uniform, and he was pretty sure he knew group to which it belonged. Tseng opened the rear door of the expensive looking care parked at the curb. A blond haired man sat at the wheel. It looked like he was examining his fingernails.

"You're Turks, aren't you?" Cloud asked once Tseng had got in and the vehicle was moving.

"Yes," the dark haired man answered shortly. "General Sephiroth has requested our assistance for this mission. One of our trainees will be your protector. You'll meet him at the hotel. At that time, we'll give you a full briefing, including names and photos of the attackers.

Cloud didn't want to think about it so he asked the easy question, "The hotel?"

"You'll be staying in the Hildorf in Sector 3."

_The Hildorf_? Cloud breathed a silent 'oh' in, what; awe, terror, excitement? He couldn't identify what he was feeling. The Hildorf was one of the most exclusive hotels in Midgar, famous throughout the world for being luxurious, expensive, and very private. It was the kind of place normal people read about in glossy magazines but never, ever, expected to stay at. Reports said they used sheets of the finest Wutaian silk.

Would that make it feel better?

"There will be some clothes in the room already. Clothing that fits. I suggest you wear them." Cloud plucked self-consciously at his pants. It was the first time he'd worn his civilian clothes since he'd joined. He knew he'd grown but he hadn't realized how much of a difference it would make. He'd had to wear his Shin-Ra issue combat boots because there was no way he could walk in his old shoes without crippling himself.

"Yes, sir."

"We'll also give you an account card with 5000 gil on it. That should cover incidentals." Tseng had obviously conveyed all his pertinent information for he closed his mouth and turned his head to face forward. Cloud couldn't think of anything that didn't sound extremely lame, so he said nothing, just stared out the window. The rest of the trip was done in silence. Well, except for the blond man who hummed along with the radio.

There were no historic buildings above the plate, but some of the more pretentious sites had been built to appear as if they'd stood for centuries. As if age somehow equalled trustworthiness or justified higher prices. The Hildorf didn't bother. Its front was an unassuming glass and marble set up that looked almost exactly like the buildings next to it. The only difference was the uniformed attendants waiting to park your car, carry your luggage, or open the door.

The blond man stayed with the car. Tseng opened the doors. Cloud carried his own luggage. His first chance to be pampered by the staff and it was completely wasted. They didn't even stop at the burl wood desk with the intimate lighting and hushed voices. Tseng ushered him over to the elevators.

The staff were too well trained to react but Cloud caught the disapproving glances some of the other guests gave him. He didn't look like he belonged and he knew he didn't. When the elevator doors opened, he was in the box before Tseng could blink.

"Hmmm," the Turk commented, "your file did say you were fast." If Cloud hadn't been feeling so silly, he would have noticed a hint of humour in Tseng's voice. As it was, he looked at the richly patterned carpet and just barely managed not to scuff his feet.

"The secret to surviving in a place like this is to pretend that you are someone who has a right to be here. You are not Cloud Strife, Shin-Ra recruit, but Cloud Strife, world famous actor and model."

Cloud stared at Tseng, shock making already large eyes even larger. "I-I couldn't do that," he protested softly. "I don't like to be looked at." Tseng looked at Cloud Strife again and thought that the boy had better get used to it.

A soft chime announced their arrival on the eighth floor. The hallway was wide, with soft lighting and little nook with chairs and flowers. Paintings hung on the walls, and Cloud could tell they were expensive originals and not assembly line copies. The carpet was so thick that even his thick-soled boots made no sound.

The room, when they entered it, was more of the same; muted tones with the occasional rich accent, thick carpets, original artwork, flowers and candies on side tables. There was a slim male standing near one of the windows, flipping through a magazine. He wore a suit somewhat like Tseng's but lighter in colour and badly shaped.

"Hansin," Tseng called and the young man turned around. "Cloud, this is Yves Hansin who will be your contact during the mission." Yves stepped forward, hand outstretched. Cloud met him halfway and they exchanged polite murmurs. "Yves is training to be a Turk and he's scored quite well so far. Having him as your contact will be less conspicuous than trying to insert even a Junior Turk back into the training program."

That made sense, although when Cloud had been picturing his 'protector' he'd pictured someone a bit more solid, someone like Tseng or Sephiroth. Each of them projected a 'don't fuck with me' message without any effort. Hansin, as competent as he may be, did not. Maybe, Cloud thought, he'd toned it down in the presence of his soon–to–be superior. Maybe it was a demonstration of what Instructor Fell called 'pecking order.' For his own sake, Cloud hoped so.

Tseng was speaking to the would-be Turk, going over the mission briefing and reviewing procedures. Cloud took the time to examine his 'protector' more closely.

Hansin was taller than Cloud, who wasn't? and nearly as slim. His features were regular, light brown hair, brown eyes, and rosy skin tones. His hands had been soft, which was surprising for someone in military training, with short fingers and square palms. He wasn't unattractive, yet neither was he attractive. He'd be good at tailing people. He was so average no one would see him.

Yves had brought a folder that he handed over to Tseng. "You both need to examine these," he said and encouraged them to sit on the couch. On the coffee table, he laid out photos, one by one of the suspected rapists. "William Descartes, class A4, age 18." The boy had light blond hair and pale blue eyes and a sneering, smug expression. He knew he was untouchable. "He's the suspected leader." He placed the next down. "Janzen Carrew, also A4, age 18, a classmate of Descartes. They've been getting into trouble together since playschool." Carrew was a darker toned version of Descartes with heavier features. The sneer was the same.

"Only these two are involved with every attack. They are the driving force behind them. The other four identified suspects, there may be others, are only involved incidentally, it seems; taking part because they are in Descartes and Carrew's company, rather than any overwhelming inclination."

He let them look at the other photos, naming the boys and giving their basic information. All of the boys were either in, or being funnelled into, the regular army, which was a bit of a condemnation all on its own, according to Tseng. People assigned to the other military branches, even the Civil Guard, had to have a gift of some kind. SOLDIERS were the most physically coordinated and mentally disciplined. They took on the most dangerous tasks. Guards were problem solvers; peacemakers and investigators. They worked in towns maintaining order and fighting crime. Tseng wouldn't say what special abilities Turks needed or what their duties included.

Total bloody-mindedness and a lack of conscience occurred to Cloud.

Regular army was for everyone else. For the ones who didn't stand out enough, who were just talented enough, but not special in any way, and that, Tseng hypothesized, could be why the boys had taken to raping the vulnerable trainees.

When they looked at all the victims, ten in the last three years, there were similarities. Eight of the ten were C class, the other two were low B's. They were all physically small, easily overpowered. Most had been singled out in training: two for SOLDIER, two for Civil Guard, two for officer training, and one by the Turks. The last three, headed for standard support training, had been extremely attractive, beyond the average in fact, so all ten had stood out from the crowd, which supported Tseng's theory of revenge rape.

In order to entice them to Cloud, he would be seen to be talking with the Civil Guard and the Officer Training Coordinators, and it would be arranged that Descartes and Carrew would overhear speculative and complimentary gossip about Cloud. Hopefully, it would be enough to goad them into action in a couple months, as Cloud, Tseng speculated out loud, would probably prefer to have this over and done with.

Tseng was right. Cloud would prefer that this be finished quickly. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he'd agreed to it, and his stomach would clench and he'd think of sneaking away. At times like those he'd pull out his one picture of his ma or he'd reread the letters he'd received: not many, as his mother still had trouble writing and got the butcher's wife to do it for her. They were stilted and impersonal because of it but he would picture her, resolutely standing in front of Mrs. Cutter and dictating the precise phrases she wanted used. It was still a picture of home.

"The most dangerous areas are the showers by the gyms, and the grounds behind the lecture hall. Once they've shown an interest in you then you should find a way to be in one of those areas in the early morning or late evening."

"You've got them under surveillance?" Cloud asked. He remembered the need to tape his attack as proof. No one would take his word over theirs.

"We're installing the cameras now when the facility is deserted," the Turk reassured him. "There will also be either a Turk or a SOLDIER close to those areas, so that when Hansin makes the call they can respond immediately. We won't let the attack go on too long."

Cloud nodded, allowing himself to be reassured. He couldn't stop the hand that grabbed his stomach, trying to keep it under control. Tseng saw it, of course, and knew the boy was in danger of throwing up from nerves. "Strife," he waiting until he had the boy's full attention, "What you're doing is very brave and very scary. No one thinks less of you for being nervous."

"Thank you, sir." It was nice to hear, but didn't unravel the knot in his stomach.

"Now I think it's time Hansin started his own vacation."

"He's not staying?" Cloud asked, surprised.

Tseng shook his head. "No, the General is sending someone over."

As he said good-bye to his new partner; a brisk handshake, a few polite words, Cloud couldn't help but feel relieved. He'd assumed that the Turk-to-be would be the one to... He could barely think the words to himself. He'd tried to imagine having those hands on his body, those lips on his and, ultimately, losing his virginity to the other trainee. He couldn't it. In fact, the more he thought of it, the more certain he was that he wouldn't be able to go through with it, so to hear Tseng say that Hansin wouldn't be staying was a relief.

Once Hansin was out the door, Tseng gave Cloud more details on who to expect. "He is a SOLDIER, just achieved Second Class. He is kind, nice and reasonably good-looking. He's working on his patience but it should be adequate for this. I believe those were your requirements?" Cloud blushed. He was really beginning to hate his mountain fairness. "His name is Zack Fair. I know him. You're in good hands."

Tseng then handed over the security card and the account card, shook his hand solemnly, reminded him to throw the door lock, and left.


	3. Making Good on the Deal

* * *

On his own in the large suite, Cloud didn't know what to do. For a while, he just sat on the couch, figuring that at least this way he wasn't likely to break anything or get it dirty. Then he realized that he shouldn't worry about it, at least not the getting stuff dirty or messy, because that's what people do in hotel rooms. He would worry about breaking stuff, not sure whether Shin-Ra would cover the cost of carelessness, but he'd never be back in this hotel so he should enjoy it while he could.

He started by exploring what looked like an unfinished kitchen. There was a sink and a half-size fridge but no stove. He found the mini-bar that opened with a swipe from the security card. There were snacks and drinks all neatly displayed. Cloud looked at the bottles but they were all pop and juice.

"Huh," he grunted in disappointment. He'd thought hotels came stocked with alcohol. It didn't occur to him that the ever-efficient Tseng had arranged for the hotel to remove all the liquor from the underage teenager's suite. Amongst the chips, granola bars and cookies, he found bags of two-bite brownies. He grabbed one and continued to explore.

In the sitting room, a large wardrobe hid a huge flat screen TV. "Whoa," he muttered, ‘this is more like it.’

He grabbed the remote, turned it on, and flipped through the stations: news, news, cartoons, chocobo races, science show and…porn? He watched as an older, naked man pounded into a young, well-endowed woman bent over the end of a couch in what looked to be an office, with very odd furniture.

He'd never seen a porn movie before. It looked, it looked…staged. Both the man and the woman seemed rather bored, as if their minds were actually on the laundry waiting for them at home. He'd seen carnival workers pounding in tent stakes who looked like they were having more fun. And _what_ were those noises she was making? They reminded him of his neighbour's puppy when they first got it. It used to yelp like that whenever it got left behind, which was often. The noise wasn't exciting; it was annoying.

Even as he realized that the scene was fake and laughable, he also realized that his breathing had speeded up and he was getting hard. Quickly he changed the channel back to the chocobo races; unwilling to be caught with an erection when Zack Fair arrived in case he thought Cloud was some kind of pervert or something. Besides, what would his ma say if she found out her son was watching something like that?

He went back into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge. Maybe the chill of the drink would help his erection disappear. He also decided to skip the bedroom for now and check out the bathroom. He couldn't think of anything sexy or erotic about a toilet.

The bathroom was just as luxurious as the rest of the suite: marble and slate everywhere; thick, lush towels draped over heated racks. The bathtub alone was bigger than his room back in Nibelheim. It had spouts on the sides and seats build into it. This was one of those Jacuzzi things like he'd read about in Tifa's magazines. He opened the shampoo and gave it a sniff. It smelled like citrus; like breaking open a summer orange but with a hint of lemon or grapefruit so it wasn't too sweet. It smelled better than his own shampoo, and he resolved to leave it in the duffel and use this instead.

By the sink, there was a small hair dryer, a comb in a cover, soap and a small tube of toothpaste. There was also some hair styling goop. He read the label. It promised a strong hold for stand up style. Cloud sighed. He didn't need any help making his hair stand up; making it lay flat, now _that_ was the challenge.

There were bathrobes hanging beside the door, their colours matched the rest of the décor. There was a water-spouting thing that looked like a toilet that Cloud figured was a bidet. If he ever saw Tifa again he'd have to tell her that her celebrity magazines had come in handy when identifying bathroom features, but the final touch, the thing that made the bathroom the perfect symbol of decadence, was the corded phone hanging by the toilet. He absolutely could not imagine talking to someone while going about his business in the morning.

‘What if they heard me taking a whiz or dumping a load?’ he wondered.

The bathroom was everything he'd expected of the Hildorf, he just wished he could share it with someone.

He was getting ready to brave the bedroom when there was a knock at the door and he froze: Was it him? Shit! Forget knots in his stomach, it felt like his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest.

He reminded himself of why he was doing this; his mom alive and healthy; himself respected and successful. Then it occurred to Cloud that it could be hotel staff checking to see if everything was all right with the room. They did that in movies.

'This is ridiculous,' he thought, 'I've agreed to this, I'm not backing out, just open the goddamned door, Strife, and stop the goddamned angsting.' With a final breath and a quick hand wipe down his pants, he pulled open the door.

The young man who stood there was beyond 'reasonably good looking.' Cloud wasn't gay but even he could see this guy was wet dream material. Tall, with dark hair and bright eyes and shaped lips, and his casual clothes didn't hide the fact that this guy had serious muscle on him.

"Cloud Strife?" the SOLDIER's voice was hesitant.

"Zack Fair." Cloud said.

"Actually, that's me," He grinned unable to resist the tease. He ran quick hand over hair that looked just about as untameable as Cloud's own. "Sephiroth sent me."

"Yeah, okay, um, please… come in."

"Thanks," he said as he entered. Cloud followed him into the sitting room. "Wow," Zack said as he stopped and looked around the large room. "This is bigger than my parent's house." He placed a large bag on the floor.

"That's what I thought," Cloud agreed shyly, "Wait till you see the bathtub."

Zack's whole face lifted in curiosity and he went off the find the tub in question. Cloud followed, keeping a few steps away but close enough to hear Zack exclaim, "Holy shit, you could fit my whole family in there, including the dog."

Reassured, Cloud made another suggestion to the higher classed man, "Check out the phone by the toilet,"

"You're shitting me. Why would you want a phone there?" His voice echoed a little, as voices tend to do in bathrooms, "Fuck, that's weird."

When Zack emerged, he had a wide grin on his face. "Can you imagine talking on the phone with someone who's taking a piss?" Cloud's smile deepened as he shook his head. Zack wasn't finished yet. "Would you even want to touch the receiver? I mean, look at where it's placed then imagine: You're having a pee and talking on the phone. You finish and shake your dick off. I don't care how careful you are, you'd get a couple drops on your hand. The same hand you'd then use to hang up the phone. Fucking thing's probably covered in piss."

"What else has this place got," he asked before heading out to explore. Unlike Cloud, he didn't hesitate to go into the bedroom. "That bed is fucking _huge_! How many people do they expect to be sleeping in it?" He popped his head out, "or maybe the point is that they don't expect people to be sleeping in it. This place is famous for being a," he made quotation marks in the air, "'discreet' meeting place."

It was a good thing he didn't wait for a response from Cloud. He couldn't think of any now that his brain was filled with the realization that they, Cadet Cloud Strife and SOLDIER Second Class Zack Fair, two guys, would be sharing that bed… and not just for sleeping.

"You haven't put away your clothes yet?" Zack's voice pulled him out of his reverie.

"Tseng said there were some in the drawers for me."

"Tseng went shopping for you?" Zack asked in disbelief, bouncing a little.

"Somebody did." Cloud pulled on his pants, "My stuff's a little small."

Zack looked him over, "Well, shit, I thought you liked it like that."

"What, so small I can't sit down properly?"

Zack grinned, "Wait until you see what they wear in the clubs _then_ say your pants are tight. Besides it looks good on you. You've got a cute ass, it deserves to be hugged. The length needs work, though. Nothing says 'small town hick' like seeing two inches of socks between your shoes and the bottom of your pants." Half of his comments were muffled as he dug through the closet and the drawers, peering at the clothes that someone else had bought for Cloud. It was good that he hadn't waited for a comment from the cadet; all he could think was ‘my ass deserves to be hugged?’

"Huh," Zack said in disgust, "You can sure tell a Turk bought these. They're all dull, blah, and boring."

"I don't mind boring as long as they fit," Cloud protested. Zack look at him in horror. "It's not like I paid for them," he defended.

"Damn. Good point." Zack agreed and put the cotton boxers back in the drawer. "And I suppose you went right from the farm into Shin-Ra and didn't have a chance to go shopping."

"I'm not from a farm."

Zack had finished in the bathroom and was now snooping through the kitchen. "Small town though, right?" He looked up to catch Cloud's nod. "Where abouts?"

"Nibelheim."

"Nibelheim?" Zack laughed.

What was the guy laughing about, Cloud wondered. What was wrong with Nibelheim? "What about you? Where're you from?"

"Me? Gongaga," the older boy answered proudly. It was Cloud's turn to laugh, though he tried to hide it behind his hand. "Hey, what's so funny about that? You know Gongaga?"

"No but it’s such a strange name."

"Ditto Nibelheim"

"Like you've been there," Cloud defended his hometown, and then wondered why he bothered. It wasn't like he'd had a wonderful time growing up in it.

"I haven't, but there's a reactor there right?" Cloud nodded. "A reactor outside of Midgar usually means..." Zack paused and looked at the boy encouragingly. Cloud, unable to resist that playful look joined in, "...nothing else out there." This time they both laughed, because it was true. Even Junon, the second-largest reactor in the world, was nothing more than a jumped up fishing village. The only reason it had any size was the permanent military base Shin-Ra had there.

"At least Nibelheim has goats and grapes too. Well, sometimes the goats get too close to the grapes and we wind up having only goats."

"Grapes? As in wine?" Cloud nodded, "Nibel wine?" Zack pressed. Cloud nodded again. Zack laughed, "Oh man, that stuff packs a fucking punch. It tastes like it's not even alcoholic but then, the next thing you know, _POW!_ you're waking up with a hangover in a bed that's not yours next to a person you don't know the name of."

"Speaking from experience?" Cloud teased, even as he blushed at his own daring

"Damn right," Zack answered, not even embarrassed, "I haven't touched the stuff since." He frowned, "Never did get that girl's name." Then he was back in motion, moving to the couch. "Nice TV but what the hell are you doing watching chocobo racing, doesn't the hotel have any porn?" and he started flipping through the channels looking for the x-rated movies.

Cloud's nerve, never very strong, gave way. His face, once again, betrayed him and flushed. "I'm just, um, you know," he sputtered, "gonna get some water."

"Got any beer?" Zack called out.

"Um, no. Just juice, pop and water."

"Gonna have to fix that. I'll take a water, if you don't mind."

Cloud dove into the little fridge, taking his time choosing his juice, pretending like it wasn't an excuse to avoid the sitting room and its contents—man and movie. 'I am such a wimp,' he berated himself, finally picking a bottle at random and going back to face his immediate future. To his surprise, Zack didn't have the porn channel on, he was watching cartoons, but when Cloud came in, he turned even those off.

"Here, Cloud, sit." Zack motioned to the end of the couch. "So this is kinda embarrassing, isn't it?" Cloud just nodded. "Just so you know, what you're doing, it makes you a hero." Cloud looked up at him in shock. Zack wasn't looking at him; he was picking at the label on his bottle.

"I'm not a hero," Cloud protested.

"Yeah, man, you are. Sephiroth filled me in. I don't know if I could volunteer for something like this. These guys have attacked ten times that we know of. An A4? That's pretty fucking high up. They could continue doing this for years. And the thing about rapists is that they often start killing their victims because ordinary rape isn't as much as a thrill after a while."

"What?"

Zack gave Cloud a small smile, "I used to date a girl in the Guards. Anyway, back to my point. Heroes stop the innocent from being hurt, and they make the bad guys pay, so you are a hero, and I'll do my part the best I can. I'll make it good for you, I promise." Eyes on the floor, Cloud managed to stammer out a low 'thanks.'

"How much do you know about, y'know, man sex?" Cloud shrugged so Zack speculated out loud; aware of, but putting aside the young man's acute embarrassment. This was too important. "Being from a small town, probably as much as I did, which was nothing. Not too many same sex couples in the boonies. Do you even know which sex you prefer?"

Cloud shook his head. He'd had too many other things on his mind to even think about it and he he'd never part of a group so he'd never spent time speculating and giggling as the other kids had.

"Well, um, when you masturbate who do you think of? I mean, you do, um, yeah. Everybody does, so you don't have to be, y'know, embarrassed or anything." Cloud _was_ embarrassed and when he looked up, he saw that Zack Fair, SOLDIER Second Class, was too. Underneath his dusky skin, his cheeks were flushed. In an odd way, it made Cloud feel better. He wasn't any more comfortable with the topic but he realized it was okay to be nervous.

"I wasn't really interested, back home; not much to choose from maybe. Then I came here and there's no privacy in the dorms, so I've never really," he trailed off. Maybe if he concentrated on the pattern in the couch fabric. It was a swoopy, swirly pattern that he could trace with his eyes and his fingers while letting his mouth answer the questions.

"How about dreams? Ever have sexy dreams?"

"A couple times. I don't remember them though, just waking up with, um, stuff, on me." This blue swoosh looped into that purple-y one. "If you're worried that I don't find you attractive, I do. I think someone would have to be dead not to think so."

"Thanks, Spike." Cloud looked up at him a question in his eyes. "It's the hair." Zack waved toward it, "It's very distinctive."

Cloud started to make a comment about Zack's hair being just as bad but then he remembered, he wasn't Zack's social equal, they weren't friends and he couldn't tease Zack as if they were. He was an assignment, something different from fighting monsters, but just an assignment.

This purple-y loop joined to that green one...

"Spike?" Zack questioned knowing that the little guy had retreated from him for some reason.

Cloud redirected the conversation, "How does it, y'know, work? I mean physically. Aren't guys built wrong to be, um, together? Like that."

"Yeah, well. Hmm," he takes a deep breath, "There are lots of ways for guys to pleasure each other. Same ways a man and a woman can, for the most part. Hands, mouths, just rubbing up against each other. Then there's anal penetration."

"Anal?" Cloud squeaked, and brought his legs up to his chin; wrapping his arms around them defensively.

"Yeah. It works a lot like, y'know, doing it to a girl, but different."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"It can, if you don't prepare enough. It should be stretched and lube helps, of course. Having someone who knows what they're doing is always a good thing." He tried to catch the young man's eye, "I know what I'm doing, in case you're wondering. I've done both; pitching and catching." That made the blond look up. "It's a way of describing who, um, penetrates and who, y'know, gets penetrated."

Cloud tried to process it, to picture it, "That's so weird," he muttered.

Zack smiled, "There are lots of ways to describe who does what during sex. Then there's the stuff you actually do during sex. Tonnes more words for that. Positions, techniques, personalities, kinks, they all have good, bad and clinical ways to be described and I'm sounding like a sociology teacher, aren't I."

No response other than a slow, shy blink that made Zack's mouth go dry. The kid's eyes were fucking _amazing_. Okay, so the statutory rape laws were strictly enforced but Zack had a hard time believing he hadn't experimented with anyone his own age. Technically, Zack had been a virgin when he came to Shin-Ra but he'd done lots of exploring with the girls his own age back in Gongaga. It was one of the reasons his parents had supporting him going, actually. They'd both said they weren't ready to become in-laws, which was what would happen if their son kept it up in the small town.

"Anyway, enough of the lecture, let's get out of here and do something fun." He clapped his hand on Cloud's knee and rose to his feet all in one smooth motion.

"Go out?" Cloud questioned.

"Yeah, you got a card from Tseng didn't you?" Cloud nodded. "Alright then, let's go waste some of Shin-Ra's money!" Zack grinned, innocent and infectious. Despite his reservations, Cloud found himself smiling back and agreeing.

"But first, man, you gotta change out of those awful clothes."


	4. Boys' Day Out

* * *

It turned into the best day Cloud had ever had. They wandered through the upper plate, stopping at whatever store took their fancy: comic books, video games, crafty stuff that made Zack groan but Cloud thought his Ma would like to hear about. They had lunch from a street vendor; hot dogs with the works. Further down the street it was ice cream then a dessert bar called Death by Chocolate Zack had to investigate. If it was food, Zack wanted some.

The SOLDIER didn't forget the stated purpose of their outing though, and pulled Cloud into clothing stores that a D3 wouldn't normally be allowed to look in the windows at. He bought a pair of shoes in one; refused Zack's choice of a sparkly SOLDIER girl t-shirt in another. His most expensive purchase was a woven shawl from Mideel that was bright and soft. His mother deserved that kind of brightness in her life.

At the end of the day, they sat through a violently silly movie about the Wutai war where a tough sergeant bullies a group of misfits, criminals, and low-class grunts into an elite fighting force and they go over and kick Wutaiin butt. Most of them die of course, but nobly and bravely. Zack laughed in some odd places, spitting out bits of popcorn and then apologizing profusely. As they left the theatre, he explained that, if army grunts _had_ fought like that on a real battlefield, against a real Wutaiin fighter, they'd've been dead so hard, their _commander_ would've felt it.

It was wonderful. The only perfect day Cloud had ever had.

Of course, he wouldn't have been quite so happy had he known it was part of Zack's strategy. The dark haired SOLDIER's bouncy personality made many people think that he was all brawn and no brains, but that wasn't true. He had a keen mind and an innate understanding of people. When Cloud had drawn back into himself at the hotel, too aware of the class difference and the situation to even look at him, Zack had almost immediately thought of a way around the boy's reserve. In fact, the whole afternoon had been spent getting Cloud to relax.

He'd stuffed Cloud full of food. He'd made Cloud laugh. He'd even gotten the boy to talk a little about his mother and life in Nibelheim. Most importantly, Zack had touched him constantly.

At first the touches had been 'manly': back slaps, knee grips, shoulder bumps and head locks, with the occasional hair rub thrown in because, honestly, how could he resist ruffling those gravity defying strands? He'd moved on to longer touches, squeezing a leg, grabbing a wrist (to drag him into weapon shop where they'd drooled over the swords), leaving his arm draped over Cloud's shoulder as they walked and talked. Until, by the end of the day, Cloud no longer drew away when Zack rested his hand at the base of his spine; he no longer flinched when Zack rubbed small circles on his thigh and, best of all, Cloud forgot that he was a D and Zack was a B. He finally looked Zack in the eye instead of keeping his head down in proper deferential style, and he responded to Zack's jokes with softly teasing comments and shy smiles.

_Fuck,_ he was _gorgeous._ Zack couldn't lie to himself. He was looking forward to taking the young blond to bed and teaching him all about man-sex. Sephiroth had given him the whole week off 'to fulfill the mission.' He so owed his commanding officer for this, and silently promised to take Sephiroth to that chocolate dessert place as a thank you.

They ended the day by getting an overloaded pizza to go and sitting on a bench to look at the sky. Not that there was much to see, Midgar's haze didn't disappear at night, but they were touching nearly shoulder to knee on the small bench, and Cloud hadn't reverted to incoherent stutters. It encouraged Zack so that, when he spotted the dribble of pizza sauce just below Cloud's lip, he first swiped at it with a napkin then, when Cloud just looked at him, stunned, he leaned over and swiped at it with the tip of his tongue. It was just a delicate lick, no lingering, or exploring.

Cloud was frozen. He'd watched Zack move toward him and knew he was going to be kissed. He almost panicked at the thought, but then Zack hadn't kissed him, he licked at the spot he'd cleaned with the napkin. It threw Cloud off balance and forced the hesitant, self-berating voice in his head to shut up. Without that voice, Cloud realized that Zack's touch had been electrifying.

Zack pulled away, eyes half closed. All Cloud could do was watch as the older man rolled his lips as if savouring the flavour. He held his breath when Zack opened his eyes and smiled. He gasped a little, his heart beating fast, when Zack leaned back down and placed his lips on his—but he didn't pull away.

It was gentle, soft; a chaste exploration that moved from one side to the other. Zack retreated infinitesimally so that just his quick breaths caressed Cloud's lips. The boy was panting, shallow and quick, like his thoughts. He enjoyed the kiss. It had felt nice, even though it was another guy kissing him, but shouldn't there be more. Was Zack going to kiss him again? Did he want Zack to kiss him again?

Why wasn't Zack kissing him again?

Finally, Cloud shifted forward, bringing their lips back together. He could feel Zack smile and he wanted to taste it. Shyly, as if afraid it was going to be bitten off, Cloud touched the tip of his tongue to the seam of Zack's lips. He remembered how Zack had touched him and repeated that same movement. It was Zack's turn to catch his breath. The SOLDIER couldn't help his hum of pleasure.

Cloud felt it against his lips and felt proud, happy, and excited, all good things. _He_ had done that: Him. Weird little Cloud Strife had made a strong, vibrant man catch his breath and _hum_.

Emboldened, he pressed a little harder and Zack allowed him entrance. That little cat tongue explored just inside his lips with little licks and brushes until Zack thought he was going to explode. He wanted to grab up the smaller man and place him on his lap, groin to groin, so they could tease each other into stupidity. 'Keep it light,' he reminded himself, 'the kid's first time should be in a bed' so, instead of squeezing Cloud's fine ass, he wrapped his lips around the boy's probing tongue and sucked. At first, he sucked lightly, not pulling it any deeper into his mouth. He brushed it with his own tongue, inviting Cloud to play.

And he did.

They would have kept it up for a lot longer, both of them lost in the tastes and textures, except that they were in a public place, where anybody walking by could see them.

"Miche! Oh my god, look at that!" The voice was young and female, and squeaky and piercing. "That is _so_ fuckin' hot!"

"Oh my god!" repeated another, equally piercing, voice, "I gotta take a picture to show Vela. I _told_ her things were different in Midgar."

Cloud and Zack pulled apart, each of them looking for whatever the teenage girls were excited about.

"Oh crap! They've stopped. And I didn't get the picture" she said disappointed.

"Awwww. It was sooo sweet too. Like a first date or something."

The two girls drifted away, speculating on the back-story of the kiss they'd just seen. Zack burst out laughing. His mako-enhanced hearing allowing him to eavesdrop for a long time as the girls walked away and their imagination grew more and more lurid.

"Were they," Cloud paused, his theory too wild to be believed, "talking about us?"

Zack just laughed more, "You bet your ass. What is it with chicks and guy-on-guy kissing?" He stood up and pulled Cloud with him. "You would not believe the stuff that shows up in some of the SOLDIER fan sites. They speculate on fucking everything, and I do mean 'fucking'. If you ever want to get ideas on what to do in bed, read fanfiction. I mean, yeah, okay, there's a lot of sex happening between SOLDIERs, but they make it seem like we do nothing but fuck. Forget training and studying battle tactics, and actual, y'know, _fighting_ , we all essentially dog pile in the General's bed all day long."

Cloud was…he didn't know what he was, appalled, intrigued, excited? "There's a lot of, um, sex between guys in SOLDIER? I mean, more than normal?" Cloud couldn't believe that question had actually come out of his mouth. Zack nodded, a soft grin on his face that Cloud thought might be caused by happy memories. "Why?"

"Why…why is there a lot of sex?" Cloud nodded, "Oh, wow, um, never thought about it," Zack scratched the back of his head before casually slinging his arm around the smaller male's back. "There're no women in SOLDIER, did you know that?" Cloud shook his head, "Mako can be poisonous, and, I guess, there's something about mako and female DNA, or hormones, or something, that just don't work together. You still hear horror stories about what happened to the first few that were injected." He shuddered. "But it does make a SOLDIER really strong; strong enough to do serious damage to someone who isn't enhanced. There's nothing like breaking your partner's pelvis during orgasm to take the fun out of sex." He looked grim, and so unlike himself, that Cloud thought—but didn't ask—that something like that might have happened to him.

"Then there's the fact that a lot of SOLDIER missions are dangerous and adrenaline makes for great sex so, after a fight, you grab the closest body and go for it." He hugged Cloud tight and lifted him up and around, as if to illustrate the impulse. Cloud, startled into an embarrassing squawk, unthinkingly punched Zack in the ribs as punishment. This final proof that his campaign had been successful caused Zack's grin to double and he couldn't help the little bounce in his step. 'This was going to be so much fun!'

"It's not required, mind you." He continued his talk about SOLDIER sex, seeing as how Cloud was so interested, although he couldn't tell if it was freaking the mountain boy out or turning him on, "Angeal, my mentor, I think he partners with his friend Genesis occasionally but he doesn't sleep around. Layton's got a girl in Admin and he's been pretty faithful. They're expecting their first kid soon. The Science department is having kittens they're so excited."

"Why does the science department care?" Cloud asked.

"The mako thing again. SOLDIERs have a hard time getting anyone pregnant and when they do get pregnant it often miscarries. They don't tell you that stuff when they sign you up and they should, I think. Some of the guys are pretty bitter about not ever getting to be dads."

To Cloud, Zack sounded unbelievably calm about the situation. "Do you want kids?" he asked.

"I dunno, maybe. One day. What about you, Spike?"

Cloud was silent, thinking about it. As a D3 in a small village, he'd have no real control over his life. Just about everyone was a higher class and could order him around. He would've had to do the work they gave him and live in the house they chose for him. They could even pick whom he could marry and have children with. Things were different in Shin-Ra. Even if he didn't make it into SOLDIER, he was going to make it into something. He'd be C class and could pick his own home, his own partner—he'd have control over his life.

"If I do have kids, I want them to have more options than I did."

"Yeah, I can understand that." They were at the entrance to the hotel and Cloud still hadn't tensed up. Zack knew his next question would probably change that. He stopped, and turned Cloud toward him, waiting until he had the boy's full attention. "We're about to go into the hotel and there'll be no going back."

"I know," was Cloud's soft reply.

"Okay, good. The thing is, there are things we can do to make you more relaxed and I want you to think about it before you say yes or no. I can go get some liquor—beer or something—or there's Velvet Rope, it'll make you very relaxed. I know somebody who can get me some. It'll seem like it's happening to someone else."

Even as he made the offer, Zack knew he didn't want Cloud to take him up on it. He wanted Cloud to very aware of who was touching him, kissing him, filling him. He wanted all of the blond's reactions to be real and honest, not filtered through an inebriated haze. He practically whooped in triumph when Cloud shook his head. "You sure?" he forced himself to ask.

Cloud looked right at him, "It's not happening to someone else. Not now, not later. At least this time it'll be nice... with you."

Zack pulled him into his chest, wrapping his whole body around the smaller man as if to protect him, "Yeah, Spikey, I'll make it nice. What the fuck am I _saying_?" He pushed Cloud away but kept his hands on the boy's shoulders, "It's not going to be just 'nice.' It's going to be fucking' _awesome_. There's some wicked ass chemistry between us, baby. I'm tellin' ya. There'll be _fireworks_."

He was infectious, Cloud thought, all that enthusiasm and confidence. He couldn't help but believe that, if Zack Fair, SOLDIER Second Class, promised fireworks then fireworks there would be. "Then let's hope the bed is fireproof," and he smiled shyly and short circuited Zack's brain, "but I'm not a baby."


	5. Fireworks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** Explicitness (oh yeah!)
> 
> I do have a less explicit version available for download. Abridged versions contain all the story of the original, but the sex is a lot less explicit, and the violence is slightly less graphic.
> 
> Abridged PDF here: www.mediafire.com/?9kgiij4niz9evo4  
> Abridged ePub here: www.mediafire.com/?se6mx0pum0mogle

* * *

With soft kisses and gentle touches, Zack managed to keep everything light, but at a simmer, as they moved from the lobby, through the halls and into the bedroom. As much as he wanted to see the pale treasure he was unwrapping, he knew the country boy would panic at the thought of being seen naked, so Zack left the bedroom lights off. The only light was what reached them from the entry hall. It was enough. Zack didn't allow Cloud a chance to get shy as they undressed, and soon it was skin to skin on top of the expensive sheets.

Zack encouraged the teen to explore his body while he stayed passive, hands clasped above his head to make it easier to resist temptation. It let Cloud feel more in control. He could, and did, set the pace for their lovemaking. The resulting hesitant strokes were a delicious torment.

Zack was always vocal during sex. It was something he was actually embarrassed by, but it worked for him in this instance, as Cloud took the sounds as encouragement. He grew bolder with his actions; smoothing hands over Zack's shoulders, down his chest, around his stomach and down, down, nearly to the groin before running away to the sides.

Soon, lips followed fingers. Zack growled instructions through his arousal: "Bite at my neck. Yeah, like that," "Scrape your fingernails a little harder," and "Don't just lick, suck. Harder," as Cloud lapped at his nipples. He'd been intrigued when the soft skin had hardened into little points but thought they were far too small to suck into his mouth. He did it anyway, and was rewarded with a low groan as Zack writhed on the bed, "Fuck, yeah," he groaned in appreciation.

Cloud had never thought of people as having a taste but Zack Fair did. A little salty, a little spicy. Cool, slick and satiny. He moved down Zack's body and enjoyed listening to him, "Please, _Gods_ , please." Yet, even as he enjoyed it, enjoyed it more than he thought he would, he knew he was avoiding that one part of Zack's body that was essential to the process – not to torment, but because he couldn't work up his nerve. He knew he'd have to touch it eventually. He didn't know much about sex, but he knew _that_.

Finally, he wrapped his hand around it. It... Zack's penis. He was holding another guy's cock. What would his mot— _No_. He wasn't going to think about that. It didn't matter what she would say; she wasn't here. It was just him and Zack, and it didn't feel bad or gross, just different.

"Please, oh _fuck_ , Gaia, please, squeeze it, please, _something_ ," Zack begged, ordered, pleaded, so he did. He squeezed his hand around it. He rubbed it up then down. There was a creamy liquid oozing from the slit in the top, and Cloud decided to start with that. He pointed his tongue and lapped it up, like a kitten, with short, sharp licks.

"Oh, Shiva's _tits_!" the dark haired man wailed, "That's fuckin' enough." He sat up, reached down, grabbed Cloud under the arms, pulled him up, threw him on his back, and rolled on top of him. All in one, smooth motion.

"You are a little tease, Cloud Strife," He accused the younger man. His voice was serious but his grin was wide so Cloud didn't worry. He should have, because Zack wasn't finished talking, "Payback time, little man." With his mako enhancements, it was easy for him to hold both of Cloud's wrists in one hand. He kissed, licked, and nipped at every piece of Cloud he could reach and what he couldn't reach with his mouth he stroked with his free hand or rubbed with his groin—everything except Cloud's leaking phallus.

He watched it though. He watched as Cloud's skin, naturally pale even there, turned pink as blood filled it and it hardened even more. He watched it bob and pulse as he explored the boy's erogenous zones. He watched it as it leaked pearly drops of pre-cum. He watched as Cloud started jerking his hips, seeking something, anything, to rub against to relieve some of the pressure.

He listened as Cloud moaned and begged and pleaded for Zack to 'do it, for Odin's sake, just _do it!_ ' So finally he did. He leaned over and took that pretty, pink cock into his mouth. It was thick, but not too long, so he was able to swallow it all down.

Cloud screamed and jerked. A couple quick, hard sucks and Zack's mouth filled with the salty-sweet taste of Cloud's cum. Even as he swallowed, keeping Cloud writhing on the bed, Zack realized he'd forgotten what semen tasted like when it wasn't tainted with the acidic flavour of mako. It was good. Or maybe it was just Cloud.

With a final, slow suck, Zack released the softening penis to plop down on the boy's belly. " _Ohmuhgod, ohmuhgod, ohmuhgod_ ," Cloud was whispering. His muscles still shuddered with small spasms, but mostly he was boneless and utterly relaxed. _Perfect for the next part_ , Zack thought happily.

"Did you like that, Spike?" Zack asked as he reached over into his duffel. Knowing his assignment, he'd brought a number of items with him, including a generous supply of his favourite lube.

"Dunno. Can't think."

Zack snickered. _Definitely perfect_. "It's not over yet, my dumbfounded cutie. Now we get to the good stuff."

Cloud whimpered, _"Ohmuhgod_."

It didn't take long for Zack to coat his fingers and insert them carefully into Cloud's opening. Cloud groaned. He covered his eyes unable to watch himself reflected in the older boy's eyes. Zack stretched and explored, gently but firmly. He found Cloud's sweet spot and rubbed it gently, teasingly. "Feel that, Spike? Feels good don't it."

Did it feel good? It felt… it made him feel so much: invaded, expanded, vulnerable, like he had to go pee, enlarged but it was good… maybe. Pleasure that was not quite pain.

When Cloud began to moan again, Zack leaned forward to catch the sounds in his mouth. Slim arms wrapped tightly around his neck, clutching at his shoulders in a sure sign of Cloud's excitement. In reward, Zack kissed lips, and cheeks; licked ears and throat; nipped at shoulders and nipples; and he watched as Cloud's flaccid penis, swelled once again. Only when it was full and hard did Zack stop his internal massage.

He moved over his young bed mate, wrapping Cloud's coltish legs around his waist, and settling the narrow hips on a pillow so he would have easier access. He retrieved the lube from where he'd left it and slicked up his own hard cock; moaning at the pleasure even that familiar touch gave him. "Relax, Cloud," he lined himself up, leaning over the small blond, "Deep breath. Let it out. That's it. It's gonna feel wonderful, better than before. I'll take care of you." He encouraged as he pressed in. Slowly but steadily, rocking past that first tight muscle.

He kept his eyes open, watching for any signs of pain. When Cloud flinched, nothing more than a twitch of the brow, Zack paused to let the boy adjust, and he nipped and licked at whatever piece of skin was in front of him. He kept up his murmured monologue, praising the feel of the boy, the smell of him, how tight, how warm, how fuckin' _perfect_ Cloud was; until he was buried balls deep.

He made small adjustments. "I'm gonna move now, okay, baby?"

"'m notta baby," Cloud's voice was slurred and shaky. It was too much. He was sharing his body with another person; someone else… some _guy_ was buried inside of him. Scary, wonderful, stretched almost to pain, exciting, weird. He liked it, he did, but he was suddenly more than he had been. He'd never be the same.

Zack just gave him a smile and a kiss, before settling in. He kept his thrusts light, looking for Cloud's sweet spot. He changed positions and angles, moved Cloud around like a doll, until he— " _Ohmuhgod, ohmuhgod_!" –found it. Cloud's hips jerked, his body arching up off the mattress.

"That's it, Spike. Talk to me." Zack's voice was strained. He was already close, so close it was almost painful, and he thought Cloud was as well. He just needed a little nudge, so he reached between them to wrap his hand around Cloud's fat phallus and stroked it. His fist tight, he used a smooth motion from base to tip, with a twist at the bottom and a flick over the slit at the head.

Cloud was gasping wordlessly, his breath stunted and sharp. He hadn't expected it to feel like this. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't _think!_ There was a white haze on his brain and his body was pulling tighter and tighter. ‘Too much, too much!’ He couldn't hold on to this, couldn't let go. 'Gaia, help me!' He exploded into shards of sparkles and glass, but blindness followed and he slid into a void.

Cloud's body tightened irresistibly around Zack's buried cock. Cloud was only vaguely aware Zack's rhythm faltering as he came, but his hoarse cry of completion automatically caused the blond to tighten his hands around his bedmate's sweat slick back. It grounded Zack and told him without words that he was safe, but it also reminded Cloud that he was here too; he wasn't just sensations, he had a body that trembled and spasmed with the echoes of pleasure.

There was hardly any sound except for them panting desperately, trying to recapture their breath, waiting for their hearts to slow down. Little moans from both of them, as one or the other shuddered in the aftershocks. However, they were both young and fit. It didn't take long for Zack to lift up on his elbows to look the younger man in the eyes.

His cocky grin was at half-mast, lazy and satisfied. "Well?" he asked as if he already knew the answer.

Cloud didn't bother to open his eyes, "Nice fireworks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy good smut (well, who doesn't?) but until I did this chapter it never really occurred to me how difficult it is to write. I was too busy thinking about words, and sentence structure and the characterizations to tell if it made me, hrm… tingle. Rereading it didn't help. All I noticed were grammatical errors so, this AN serves two purposes: 1) if you see jarring phrases or can think of ways to improve the chapter in any way, please let me know! And, 2) to heap praise on all the authors out there who make this seem so easy. I'm in awe. Seriously.


	6. Insecurities and Reassurances

* * *

Zack, when preparing for this mission, had been his usual imaginative self. He'd filled his duffel with all sorts of fun things: flavoured lubes and oils, dildos, butt plugs, a blow up doll Cloud absolutely refused to go near. There were cock rings, handcuffs and ties, even nipple clamps—Cloud had clasped his chest protectively and locked himself in the bathroom. He had books, both fiction and non-fiction—illustrated, of course, in colour.

He made sure they experimented with locations, so the couch, the bath, and the wall beside the door, all got a work out. Techniques and positions were also explored. He managed to talk the small blonde into topping him a couple times and thought that, with a bit more confidence, Cloud would be good at it. Some positions he knew were good from past partners but some, from his books, were ones he'd always wanted to try. At first Cloud would say no but Zack went all 'Big, Sad Eyes' on him. The SOLDIER didn't complain, he didn't whine, he just sighed and _drooped_. Cloud would usually give in, of course.

One thing he couldn't do, not with bribes, threats, or trickery, was get the small-town boy to sit down and watch a porn movie with him. He'd brought a few of his favourites, both hetero and gay, but Cloud wouldn't let him put them on. Not even the moderately tame one. Zack couldn't understand it. Cloud would read the books, and some of them were more explicit than any porn movie could hope to be. Nevertheless, the mere suggestion had him retreating to the other room to do push ups. He looked pretty damn good doing push ups, Zack admitted to himself, almost porn worthy—if only he’d been naked.

Zack couldn't resist helping Cloud with his workouts. He was a naturally physical guy; inactivity didn't suit him. Plus, intense hand-to-hand fighting techniques morphed so easily into hot and heavy monkey sex. It was a win all around.

Unarmed fighting moved into the basics of sword work because Zack felt weird not practicing it. The sitting room was big enough that, once they moved the coffee table, there was enough room to swing something small. They went out and bought plastic blades, since Cloud wouldn't let him use the curtain rods, and they worked on stances and movements.

He taught the small cadet exercises that would help develop his upper body strength, or improve his stamina or flexibility. Zack loved it—all of it—the sex, the workouts, instructing and practicing, and Cloud soaked it all in, working out any time they weren't eating or having sex.

At first, he thought Cloud was just as hyper as he was himself, but then Zack thought that it was because the little guy was obsessed with getting into ShinRa and building that future where his kids would have better choices. He was wrong. It was a casual comment made when he'd caught the kid shadow boxing that made him realize why Cloud was obsessed with being stronger, faster, better.

_"I may have to let myself get raped by some A4 asshole, but I don't have to let anybody else do it."_

What got Zack was he'd sounded so fucking calm about it. Like stuff like that always happened to guys like him. Well, he was a D3 and damn pretty, so he probably wasn't that far wrong, but still…. Just the idea of what the little guy had volunteered to do made Zack's guts clench.

If he'd ever needed a definition of bravery, he'd found it in Cloud Strife.

The week ended, quietly enough, with them sitting on the couch watching cartoons. They'd packed their gear; Cloud firmly rejecting Zack's joking offer of flavoured lube and a butt plug. By some unspoken understanding, there was no bed play on this, their last day together. Instead, they'd played cards and chatted. The big SOLDIER kept grilling Cloud on what he'd need to remember to defend himself, and to get into SOLDIER. It was fun, and it was teasing, for the most part—but not for all of it.

"You had a good time this week, didn't you, Cloud?" Cloud blushed, _stupid pale skin_ , and answered affirmatively. "You know I have."

"I did too. And it wasn't just the sex, though that was great, but the thing is… Once we're back at Shin-Ra, we can't know each other. Not without breaking your cover. Even if I was still a Third Class, no one's going to touch you if they think you're friends with a SOLDIER."

"I know," Cloud replied because he did. He knew that this week was something out of the regular flow of their lives, but he'd been hoping that maybe it would turn into something else—something like friendship. _Stupid, stupid, Cloud. When are you going to learn?_

Zack tipped the boy's head up so he could make eye contact. "Once this mission is done, and the bad guys are caught, I'm gonna look you up, and we're going to be friends."

"You, you want to be friends?" Cloud couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, friends. We'll hang out, eat cheap pizza, and watch bad movies. We can't do the sex thing again until you're legal, so you'll have to keep your hands off this gorgeous bod. Think you can do that?"

Cloud smiled, "Just close my eyes and think of Heidegger, naked. That should kill any urges."

" _Ewww_! Bad images, bad! Now I'm psychologically scarred." Cloud laughed and Zack joined in. "So we're good, right?" He held out his closed fist.

Cloud pressed his fist against Zack's, "We're good."

As if that was some kind of signal, there was a soft knock on the door. Zack got up to open it. It was Tseng. "Good morning, Cloud. Are you ready to go?"

"Wow," Zack commented, "I'd always heard you were all business but that's cold."

"We need to drop him off before the majority of cadets return. Before we can do that, we need to go over his cover story about what he did this week. Besides, is there any reason for a long good-bye?"

They responded with mute headshakes. Faced with such a flat and emotionless speech, neither one of the younger men could think of anything to say.

"Very well. I'm sorry we can't offer you a ride back to Shin-Ra, Lieutenant Fair, but I'm sure you can make it back safely. Cloud, grab your bag." Cloud offered his hand to Zack and got pulled into a quick back-thumping man-hug instead, then it was grab his duffel and out the door.

The same guy was driving, but this time he kept the radio off. Probably so that Tseng wouldn't have to raise his voice as the Turk tossed information to the young blond about the cover story, and gave pop quizzes about the pretend visit and what he supposedly did during the week.

They'd picked Sector 7 for the location of Cloud's family friends. It was a good choice. Sector 7 was the worst district in upper Midgar, the other cadets would believe that any friends of a country boy like Cloud would live there, but being the worst area above the plate wasn't saying much. Cloud remembered the train ride he took to get here, and looking out the window at the slums that existed below the plate. The tiny cottage in Nibelheim was better than that. At least it was made out of wood and not garbage.

The next four hours were blurry. He had a good memory but fake people and activities that never happened fought in Cloud's mind with the very real things he had done with the completely alive Zack Fair. The memories were so vivid that he made sure to hold something on his lap throughout the trip as he was never sure when Tseng would turn in the front seat to look at him and the last thing he wanted the ultra-efficient Turk to see was that Cloud's mind was in his pants and not where it should be.

He felt like he was splintering; he'd spent the week in luxury but he had to believe it was a week of nothing special; he'd had mind-blowing sex—no, he was a (nearly) fifteen year old virgin; he was aroused yet bored, young but mature, weak but tough, stubborn but carried away on a tide beyond his control.

He needed some normalcy back in his life. For the first time since he left his mountain village, he was consumed with homesickness. Sure, he'd been one of 'those weird Strifes' but he'd known everybody, their faces, their voices, their likely reactions to a variety of situations, and they'd known him the same way. He'd faced down the village bullies. He'd made his own way across continents to Midgar. He'd joined Shin-Ra and survived the first cut using his innate intelligence, his common sense, and his shear bull headedness. He'd forced a deal on two of the top men in Shin-Ra's military, Hell, one of them had been _the_ top man: General Sephiroth himself. He'd survived it, but he hadn't survived unscathed. He'd changed, was still changing but he didn't know into what

Suddenly, he needed—intensely, desperately—to talk to his Ma.

"My sweet Dream Cloud. Long time since you called." His mother's voice was light and soft. She spoke with a unique mountain cadence, leftover from when Nibel was separate from Shin-Ra and had its own language.

"Only a month." He could hear movement in the background, talking and glasses clinking. The Strifes didn't have a phone in their home. Most people in Nibelheim didn't. Instead, they used the one at the Inn that was in the hall near the taproom.

"Sure? When I see you, you gonta look like my Cloud?"

"Not a chance. I'm gonta be tall as a tree, strong as a mountain and sleek as a wolf," he teased, "and my hair will be blue."

"Neh. Believed you until the hair," she chuckled; it was too deep and rich to be a giggle, "but you got Strife hair. Nothing changes it." Cloud chuckled too. Strife hair was famous for doing exactly what it wanted no matter what was done to it. "So, you called for a reason?"

"Need a reason? Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice, hey." Talking to his Ma, Cloud forgot all the hours he'd spent trying to lose his accent by mimicking the newscasters. His speech patterns were reverting to those of his childhood.

"Good-looking boy has better things to do than phone his old ma. Friends, yah?"

"A couple," he agreed. Zack's face flashed in his mind. He said he wanted to be a friend, but that was at the end of an intense week, with sex—lots of sex. Could he trust what the SOLDIER said? "I'm cadet now," he announced, knowing it would sidetrack his mother.

"Hnn," it was a sound meaning nothing; not approval but not disapproval either. Shin-Ra wasn't actually popular in the mountains. The reactors had changed everything: where they lived, how they lived, how they talked, what they were allowed to do, to be.

"Make it into the Guard, six years, come out a C. Can work regional security out of Nibelheim then. Life will be good, hey?

"Hnn. What about SOLDIER?" She sounded surprised, and she would be. Cloud had told her that SOLDIER was his dream, to explain his sudden need to go to Midgar. His mother hadn't been happy with the idea of him becoming one of the elite fighters with their unnatural mako enhancements. He'd pleaded. She had cried quiet tears thinking about what Shin-Ra would do to her beautiful son, but she'd given him what gil she had and sent him on his way, and she worried.

"Neh, stories weren't all wrong. Not all right, either but…." His voice carried the shrug his mother couldn't see. If it reassured her, he would let her think he'd changed his mind, and he would try out for the Guard but, in his heart, he knew he'd at least like to get the _chance_ to become a SOLDIER.

"What about you, Ma? Anything new?"

"Yah. Odd thing; Shin-Ra people came earlier this week, checking for some infection from the Flats. Testing all of us, yah."

Everything in him came to alert. General Sephiroth and Commander Lind had kept their word, sort of. They were supposed to take her to hospital, not fool around with tests first. He tried not to let his sudden tenseness invade his voice. "Find anything?"

"Results tomorrow maybe."

"You'll call, hey?"

"Yah. You arranged it somehow, so I'll let you know," Autumn Strife may only be an E3, unable to read and write in Common, but she wasn't stupid.

"Ma…" Cloud started but was unable to think of anything to say.

"That vision you had last winter; still trying to fix it, hey." Cloud remained silent because it was true. "Somehow you got Shin-Ra up here. Do I want to know how?"

"Probably not."

"Not volunteering to be experimented on, neh? Heard of what they do; bad things, evil things, don't want you doing that."

"No, no, Ma, no experiments; nothing more dangerous than what I was already facing." He just had to make sure it was the right group of rapists and that the authorities caught it on tape. He pushed the thought out of his head.

"And now you don't need to be SOLDIER?"

"Neh," he agreed.

"Regular army's only four years, why not that, hey?" Nothing was free. Shin-Ra would train you and you could go up in class but in return, you had to agree to serve the company for a certain amount of years. With some of the sciences, he'd heard it was up to twenty years. SOLDIER was ten but they would always need their mako levels monitored, which meant they'd never get completely free of the monolithic company.

"Rather run with weasels. Civil Guard's good enough: investigating, keeping the peace, helping people. Make the Mayor fix that bridge properly, hey?"

Autumn Strife chuckled, "That's my Storm Cloud. Shake 'em up, yah."

"You know it, Ma."

They shared a few more minutes of easy conversation; gossip about the villagers and the latest monster sightings. Cloud talked about his classes and some of the strange instructors he had. He made her laugh and she made him feel lighter again. Zack had made him feel like that sometimes. Other times he'd made him feel… other things, which he wasn't going to think about while on the phone with his mother.

It was a good talk. When he hung up, he felt happy, and confident that the future would be all right. He felt more like himself than he had for a while.

Still, happy didn't mean stupid and he was careful as he walked the halls to the eastside study room. He stayed in the main halls and walked in the middle, away from side corridors and rooms that he could be jumped from and pulled into. He walked confidently, more confidently since Zack taught him some moves, but not arrogantly. He was trying for a 'don't give me any trouble and I won't hurt you' attitude.

He was meeting Hansin, and then they were going to the main office to confirm their attendance and their pairing. Mentor-protector and apprentice-whore, whatever you wanted to call it. It was common knowledge that many of the people who washed out often wound up in Sector 7, or even below the plate, being prostitutes for real. They'd come to Midgar with a dream and when the dream died, there was no money for them to go home with, no way for them to escape. That wasn't going to happen to him.

Talking to his mother had reminded him of his mountain roots. He may not be big or strong, but he was stubborn. It would be enough; he'd make sure of it.


	7. Setting the Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain red-head joins the cast.

* * *

"Cloud." Hansin was dressed in the standard Shin-Ra military fatigues, an ugly brown that indicated their training status.

"Hansin," Cloud responded. There was something in the other man that always struck Cloud as being… off. Tseng had picked the sophomore for this mission, and the Goddess knew the Wutaiin was efficient. Hansin just didn't feel the same way.

"Call me Yves, we're supposed to be friends, right?"

"Friends of friends."

The story, that Tseng had drilled him on, was that the family friends that Cloud had stayed with over the week had worried about him so they'd convinced the son of a friend of theirs to take Cloud on. Accordingly, they would have met for the first time just last week and Cloud just didn't make friends in a week. He ignored the memory of bright eyes and warm hands. Zack was… was something different.

"True, and it fits with the fact that you didn't have any friends during recruitment." The older boy's voice was almost neutral but there was that hint of 'unfriendly' again. "Well, come on. Let's get this done."

They walked back down the halls to the main entrance of the dorms. The Admin Building was across the parade grounds, in the shadow of the towering main building. It was unspoken but commonly known, that a department's importance to President Shinra could be discerned by how close their building, and therefore their offices, were to the main building. SOLDIERs were in the skyscraper, Cloud knew, although he didn't know which floor. And those mysterious Turks were there, somewhere close to the President and his son.

Regular Army and Military Support had their buildings attached to the main one via corridors. The massive Recruiting Center was on the very edge of the complex where the noise of nearly a thousand anxious kids wouldn't disturb the higher ups. The cadets were housed and trained in between the two.

They chatted of surface things as they walked over to the Military Support Building, but it was strained. Hansin suspected what had gone on in the hotel after he left. Maybe it was the potential Turk coming out; maybe Hansin was just naturally nosy but he hinted and he fished and he prodded for more information, probably for who had shown up after he left, but Cloud had lots of practice at not answering questions. The badgering didn't make Cloud warm up to him any and it was a safe bet that Cloud's stonewalling didn't make Hansin any fonder of him.

In the end, it didn't matter. As long as Hansin did his job as backup, he could be as much of a jerk as he liked. As a D3 from a small town, Cloud was used to ignoring assholes with attitudes.

The Registrar's Office was on the main floor of the building. It was still early enough that there wasn't much of a line, although it grew considerably while they were in line, and the process was dead simple once they showed their Shin-Ra IDs to the bored, grey-haired clerk behind the desk.

"Are you registering as a pair?" Meaning: had they agreed to be mentor and apprentice, or any of the variations for which that was the polite term.

Hansin said yes and the clerk typed it in. "Did you wish to share accommodations?" Meaning: were they going to be having sex together. They both shook their heads.

Without another word, the clerk printed out Liability Release forms for them to read and sign absolving Shin-Ra of any responsibility for any injury, dismemberment or death that might occur during training. Another printed bundle contained their course schedules with supply lists and a helpful little map so they didn't get lost on their way to class.

The last two sheets were their room assignments. Cadets got to live in 4-bed dorm rooms rather than the 40-bunk barracks used for the recruits. The clerk, finally showing signs of human curiosity, glanced at them before handing them over. Hansin's he passed with a little, hmm, a non-committal sound that could've meant anything but seemed rather disparaging. Cloud's, however, he held on to with an ah, hmm.

"What?" Cloud asked. He'd already registered...well, Tseng had handed him all the same documents and escorted him to his dorm room. He hadn't even looked at the sheets the clerk gave him.

"Hmm, well," the clerk harrumphed. "You might want to get over to your room right away. One of your roommates has already registered and he's, uh, a special case."

Cloud and Hansin looked at each other, sharing a baffled look "Why? Is there something wrong with the guy?" Hansin asked.

"Sorry, boys, that's all I can tell you." He gave them a flat-eyed look. A look that said he'd heard everything, seen everything and nothing they said or offered would make him say any more. _'So why'd he even bring it up_ ,' Cloud wondered?

"Thank you," Cloud said to him. The politeness required of a lower class to a higher: thanking them for anything offered, whether it was helpful or not. As they walked away, the clerk said low and barely audible, "You might want to reconsider your room assignment."

"What was that all about?" Hansin asked. "Who've you got in your room?"

Cloud shrugged and pulled out the list. They were all first years and all in the general military stream. There were no hugely famous names; although one, Victor Moore, could be the son of one of the actor Stanley Moore, but Moore was a common name and neither of them were big fans of the actor, so they couldn't be certain. In the end, they both shrugged unable to come to any conclusion.

"Did you want me to come with you?" Hansin offered. Cloud turned it down, there were enough people on campus, and he wasn't going anywhere secluded, that he felt sure he could make it to his room okay. There was also that feeling again, the feeling that Hansin was saying the words without meaning them. He was sure he saw relief just before he turned away.

Cadets were starting to arrive. The entranceways were filling up with returning recruits who ran at each other, and hugged and screeched as if it had been years since they last saw each other instead of just one week. Cloud threaded easily through the shifting groups and made his way to the dorm. The hallways were mostly deserted as he made his way up to his third floor room. He walked in to see a skinny, redheaded teen going through his duffel.

"Excuse me, what you doing with my stuff?"

"Oh, hey, you're Strife? I saw the green light beside your name, yo." The guy's voice had a nasal, twangy sound that labelled him Midgarian born and bred—and not above the plate either.

"Yes, I'm Strife and that's my stuff you're going through." He moved over to his duffel, left carelessly where he'd thrown it before rushing down the hall to the floor's communal telephone. He had a PHS, but Tseng had told him specifically not to use it for personal calls. It was the only thing of real value he had and he'd carried it with him, as instructed. A quick search showed nothing was missing. Since he was going through it anyway, Cloud started to move his stuff to his assigned cupboard.

"I didn't steal nothing, though the lube was tempting."

At those words, Cloud stopped, "The… what?"

"The unopened tube of cherry flavoured lube that was tucked into the side pocket of your bag, but now that I see you, I figure you might need it soon, yo."

Cloud dug it out of the bag. He would fucking _hit_ Zack with it next time he saw him. "Gag gift from a friend," Cloud stated, knowing already that he would never live it down.

"Still, won't stop you from needing it later, cute little thing like you." Cloud could only stare at the older boy. He _had_ to be sixteen, but he looked older and acted younger—much younger. He was slouched against the windowsill, arms loose, and hands in his pockets. His whole posture screamed 'delinquent.' It also said 'I have no sexual interest in you whatsoever' but that didn't match what he just said. Or maybe he meant something else by it.

"You trying to piss me off?" Cloud asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Why," he countered with a smirk, "Am I getting to you?" He didn't wait for a response but, instead, straightened up and suddenly looked completely different. "Yeah, I'm messing with you, but if you don't want the lube, I bet I could sell it for a nice bit of gil. We could split it, yo."

Cloud narrowed his eyes at the redhead who was trying to exude anxious trustworthiness now. He was doing a pretty good job too, which was just plain scary. "Why would I trust you to split the money fairly?"

"Oh, man, that's harsh. You don't even know me and already you're judging me," he drooped and tried to look hurt. He did that posture perfectly, too. Luckily, the week with Zack had inured Cloud to a high level of woebegone looks. This guy was good, but he wasn't in Zack's class for Sad Puppy looks.

"I found you going through my bag. That doesn't actually say 'honest person, trust him' to me."

"What can I say, I'm nosey." The redhead shrugged, dropping the attitude in a blink. He held out his hand, "Name's Reno."

Cloud took it automatically, "Reno? That name's not on the list." For the first time Cloud saw real emotion on the guy's face: horror.

"Shit no, they didn't." He let go of Cloud's hand and jumped to the hall to look at the occupant list posted beside the door. Cloud, feeling curiosity of his own, followed. "Fuck, those bastards. I _told_ them." Cloud didn't see where he pulled it from, but suddenly there was a tool, like a screwdriver, in Reno's hand and he was working at the plate.

"The display is computerized. You know that right? Can't change it from here."

"I can disable the fucker, yo," and he proceeded to do just that.

"Let me guess," Cloud said as he watched his demented roommate destroy Shin-Ra property. "Renton Sinclair?"

"Shit," Reno stopped his work to glare at the blond, "You _ever_ say that name again and I'll bury you so deep that the next time anyone sees your bones you'll be a historic discovery, you got that, yo?" Suddenly, the skinny redhead didn't seem quite so laughable. In fact, he reminded Cloud a little of the Turk, Tseng. There was no doubt that this guy could be dangerous.

Cloud pretended that this was one of those tests Zack had put him through, trying to teach him to think through fear. Only this was scarier. This was _real_. Reno wanted something, so they could make a deal. He could do this. "You stop going through my stuff, and I'll only use it in emergencies."

_Wait, no._ He'd meant to say he would forget he'd ever heard the name 'Renton'. What was he _thinking?_ His crazy roommate, the one the registrar clerk had hinted about, had a potentially lethal weapon in his hand, and Cloud was _teasing him?_ Obviously spending time with Zack Fair had addled his brains.

Reno squinted; his blue eyes flinty, "What do I get to use in emergencies?"

He wasn't attacking, that was good. "Umm… cherry flavoured lube?" Cloud suggested.

The silence between them stretched as Reno considered if the blackmail material was of equal value. Finally, he smirked, and nodded. "Yeah, that works. It's amazing where those little tubes can end up," and like that, predatory killer was gone, _Poof!_ and lazy, sloppy guy was back. "For a scrawny, little dude, you're alright, Strife."

Cloud ignored the sweat he could feel running down his spine. He could do this. He'd done it with Zack, "Being a tall, skinny guy is better?"

"At least I can see where I'm going in a crowd, yo." Reno turned back to the nameplate. He'd finished wrecking it and was reattaching the circuit board.

"And when you're stuck in that crowd, I'll be walking under tables and legs and right out the door." It was a lame comeback but the best he could come up with. He just wasn't used to friendly banter.

Reno chuckled, "I suppose being a shrimp makes it easy to look up skirts," he conceded as if it were a major point in favour of being short. "And I s'pose you'll get taller. You're kinda young to be a cadet, dontcha think?"

The danger was back. There was no way he could let Reno continue with this kind of speculation. "Why did the guy at the registrar's desk warn me about you?" It was a bold countermove for Cloud. Before last week, he would never have attempted it; too scared that it would cause the other guy to attack him whether physically or verbally.

"You got _warned_ about me?" Reno sputtered.

"Well, it was more of a hint, but yeah."

"Fucking shiny, yo! I'm notorious." His smile was wide and engaging, and Cloud was reminded of Zack's infectious grin. It wasn't as bright, but it was still… nice, and it encouraged Cloud to go a little further.

"It doesn't involve pet mutilation or ritual murder, does it?" he made sure to have a long suffering; 'I-don't-think-I-can-put-up-with-another-one-of- _those_ ' tone in his voice. In case Reno answered in the positive.

Reno howled, doubling over. Part of it was what the blond had said, but it was mostly that the little guy obviously thought it _could_ be true and was desperately trying not to be afraid. "Shit, I haven't laughed so hard in years," he wiped his eyes; "They didn't get me for murder. You can stop worrying about that, yo. "

Not that he hadn't committed murder, just that they hadn't caught him. It was an important distinction and Cloud made a note of it. He wanted to ask, he _really_ wanted to ask, but he was sure it would be impolite.

Reno saw both the desire and the restraint. Most people not from below the plate would've asked— _rude assholes_. He decided the kid was alright and he'd tell him the tale—best to get his version out there first anyway. "Let's mosey, Strife. I need to find something." He flung his arm around Cloud and steered him toward the stairs. "So, I'm below the plate with some friends, relaxing, drinking a few brews; maybe smoking something we shouldn't. When I realize these guys are boring fucks, yo, and I go for a walk – looking for something a little more exciting, y'know."

His pace and his speech were ultra casual, but Cloud noticed that his eyes never stopped looking, assessing the corners and the shadows for danger; and he always kept Cloud between him and anyone coming toward them. If danger threatened, he'd throw Cloud into it and run in the opposite direction.

"I head for this club where I know I can get some action and there she was: A cherry red Forsch 954 with all the trimmings. I was just, y'know, looking at her and lusting a little 'cuz you gotta drool over machinery that hot, when I notice that Baby's all alone. Can't have that, yo."

Wordlessly Cloud shakes his head. He's never been into cars and doesn't really understand the fascination, but he knows what's expected of him. "Besides, whoever owns her is obviously criminally stupid to leave that beauty alone, and deserves to be taught a lesson. I was doing him a service."

"You stole the car?" Cloud guessed.

"Borrowed it," Reno protested, "I never planned to keep her. Turns out she did have protectors. Came out of the fucking shadows as soon as I had the door open. Scary fucks. Fast too. Had me down before I got three steps." There was rueful admiration in the redhead's voice. "Guess who owned Baby?"

Cloud shook his head.

" _Rufus_ fucking _Shinra_." Cloud's eyes widened in sympathetic horror. "I was so screwed. This one guy just picks me up and holds me off the ground. Him, I didn't see so well. The other guy, a bald black guy— _not_ originally from Midgar. He doesn't say a fucking word, yo, just walks up to me, punches me one solid in the jaw and lights out. Next thing I know, I'm being offered a choice of life time contracts: a materia mine or Shin-Ra Military."

"So here you are."

"Bet your ass, kid. At least here there are chicks and food. I get booze and cigarettes. I'll even get paid some day. Besides it might be fun."

"Maybe they'll teach you how to blow stuff up." Cloud suggested in jest.

"Oh yeah, I could do that shit," Reno snorted, and stood tall, arm outstretched as he invited Cloud into his vision. "Can't you just see me, standing outlined against the sunset, bravely facing down a gang of bad guys with a grin and a bomb, yo? Just me trying to save the world." Then he laughed and ruined the picture, "Never fucking happen."


	8. Bad News First

* * *

Reno was an irresistible force as he dragged the young blond across to the admin building. There, using a combination of flowery compliments and Cloud's looks, he talked some secretary into letting him have access her computer. So, while Cloud was getting his cheeks pinched and his hair patted, Reno was busy saying bye-bye to Renton Sinclair and hello to Reno (no last name). He did it so slick that Cloud hadn't even guessed what his roommate was up to until he'd sat down at the keyboard. At least, Cloud comforted himself, he'd gotten a brownie out if it, which he hadn't shared with Reno.

Back in their room, they got to meet their other two roommates, Cubby Andrews and Victor Moore. Cubby seemed okay, all he wanted to do fly; planes, helicopters; he didn't care as long as it would get him up in the sky. Cubby was another motor head so he and Reno discussed cars and bikes. Cloud noticed that Reno also got the other boy discussing, in theory, how one could break into and hotwire an airplane if one needed to—hypothetically of course.

Watching Reno, sitting so close and casual, Cloud was sure the redhead was cataloguing everything that came out of the guy's duffel. A couple times, it seemed like his eyes got brighter. Cloud looked at the standard issue locks on their cupboard doors and just knew that Reno was laughing at them. He made a mental note never to put anything important or personal in there.

Victor Moore, no relation to the actor, was a B3 and destined for Great Things. At least he thought so. He announced that he would tolerate Cubby, a C3 and therefore only one class lower, but he wanted nothing to do with Cloud. As for Reno, whose information on the occupant list strangely didn't give a class, Reno just wouldn't exist in Moore's world. It was the entirely the wrong thing to say to a below-the-plate felon who didn't give a shit and was already under a death sentence. Reno just smiled at him. Cloud and Cubby recognized the predator emerging. Moore, with his spoiled and insulated history, did not.

When the bell rang for evening meal, they travelled as a group out of serendipity rather than choice. Once in the mess hall, Moore abandoned them immediately and went to the feed line for B-class and aboves. It was a shorter line and the food was nicer. It was set up like a buffet, with china plates and crystal glasses. It even had a chef carving the roast.

The rest of the cadets, ranked C and lower, made do with cafeteria-style service and had food slopped on their plastic plates in an unappetizing mass. Reno had taken one look at the muck on display behind the window and wandered away. Unable to blame him for rejecting it, Cloud and Cubby nevertheless made their way through the line, collecting their protein and carbs, and by unspoken agreement, made their way to sit at the same table.

Standing in line and then walking through the tables, it was funny how many people Cloud recognized from recruitment, and how many recognized him and said hello. He'd thought he'd been invisible during recruitment. He'd tried to be invisible. He ducked his head, unsure whether to be pleased, or embarrassed or scared.

If one of them guessed that he wasn't sixteen and reported it, there would have to be an investigation and then the mission would be called off and his ma wouldn't get the treatment Cloud knew she needed. Except, there was a part of him that thought it was cool that people recognized him and wanted to say hello. People remembered him.

A small group of boys waved enthusiastically at Cubby, "C'mon Cloud. Come meet my friends," so he went, because it was better than having to choose someone to sit with. He'd probably pick the one person who wanted him to come over just to make fun of him.

The older boy introduced him but he didn't catch most of the names. It was okay, though. They probably wouldn't remember who Cloud was five minutes after getting up from the table and Cloud was equally sure he wouldn't be able to remember them. Besides, they didn't care if the little, blond kid joined them as long as Cubby was there.

There were four of them and they all looked somehow the same; short, military haircuts, nice, even teeth and polished, clean nails. Even their mannerisms matched. Cloud realized, as he listened to their conversation, that Cubby had grown up with this group of boys.

They were subdued compared to the other groups of reunited friends that were making the mess hall a lesson in noise pollution survival. In fact, their group was beyond subdued. A muffled sob pulled Cloud out of his normal attitude of trying not to be noticed in a crowd. The strangeness of someone crying in public drew the boy's attention and he wondered what he'd missed.

"Hey, Dole, It'll get better. They'll find the ones who did it," said the tallest one. Cloud thought his name was Bryant.

"I don't really care if they find the guys," Dole said. "Vance is dead. It won't bring him back." Cloud's roommate reached over and patted his friend's arm.

"Too bad those assholes didn't try it next week. Vance would've had his injections and they would've been meat." It was the heavy-set one, sitting beside Dole and rubbing his back.

"That doesn't help, Win," said Cubby. In fact, it seemed to make it worse. The one called Dole stood up abruptly and left the table. The tall one followed him out.

With him away from the table, Cloud felt safe asking Cubby what had happened. "His big brother was attacked and killed during break."

"Do they know who did it?" It was the obvious question, but Cloud already had a suspicion.

"I think it was that army guy that was hitting on him last year," Win piped in.

Cubby sighed, "We don't know who did it, not officially, but there was this guy in Supplies who had a thing for Vance. Vance didn't tell us all the details but we know he kept bugging Vance and that Vance wasn't happy about it."

"Why didn't he report the guy?" Technically, cadets could always report when they were being harassed; Shin-Ra had a very public anti-harassment policy. Practically, the anti-harassment law was almost completely unenforceable. Which is why Cloud was still here in Midgar and not expelled and heading back home. Except that a country boy like him probably wouldn't be aware that the law was a joke, so he would ask such a naive question.

As expected, the other boys laughed. "Complaining wouldn't have done anything," Cubby said, "The army guy was higher rank and higher class."

Win joined in the explanation, still concerned but also, Cloud could tell, excited at being on even the periphery of such a dramatic tale, "The way I heard it, this army guy was always hitting on him because he was going into SOLDIER and SOLDIERs got a reputation as being kinda slutty, right? But Vance wouldn't put out for the army guy."

Cubby interrupted Win's lurid rendition, "Whatever the reason, him and some friends attacked Vance outside a bar in Sector 7."

Win interrupted again, "The Guard say Vance fought back pretty good, probably broke something, even if he hadn't received his first mako injection."

Again, Cubby tarnished the other boy's silver lining, "They also figure that's probably why he got killed. Aggression, adrenaline, combined with the violence of rape, all added up to a good man getting killed, so it doesn't matter if it was a crush or just meanness. Fuck!" he hammered his fists on the table, "It seems so unfair."

His mind back on what Zack had said about the attackers escalating their attacks, Cloud blurted out "Life is unfair." It was harsh, but true, and it threw a blanket on the conversation. Nobody was going to argue about fairness with a D class.

Into that silence, Reno slouched up to the table with a china plate loaded with buns, potatoes, roast beef, and gravy. He also had a side plate covered in pies and cakes. He kicked a chair out and sat in it "Here you are. I wondered where you'd got to."

"Reno," Cloud asked for everyone, "How did you get that food?"

The redhead smiled, "I went up and got it. Don't see why I should have to eat that shit, yo." He waved his fork at their plates.

"Because you're not A or B class?" Cubby pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm not a C, D or E either. Never thought there'd be an advantage to being a chav." He smirked at their stunned looks, "As a convicted criminal I have no class," Cloud couldn't help it, he snorted, which forced some of his dinner hash up his nose. While he tried to discreetly to get it out—it hurt!—Reno poked his fork at him, "No comments from the peons, yo!"

Win, already not known for his tact, asked, "What do you mean you have no class," This time Cubby made the choked sound, maybe at his friend's stupidity. "Aside from the obvious, I mean." Win clarified, which made it worse rather than better.

Reno raised his brows, "What's obvious about what?" Win, deciding discretion was called for, refused to expand on his statement. "Pussy," Reno muttered. "I'm officially designated a U—Unclassified. It's supposed to mean I'm lower than low, but, I decided it means the rules don't apply to me." Reno smiled, a deliciously, wicked smile. "D'you know who else is Unclassified? The great General Sephiroth, himself, yo. If I'm sharing a rating with the Demon of Wutai, I figure I should be treated the same way, don't you? He wouldn't have to put up with corn hash."

All but Cloud burst into nervous laughter. It would have been louder but they weren't sure that Reno was actually joking. It was obvious a few were shocked that someone in their midst admitted, quite openly and casually, that he had been convicted of a crime.

Cloud was glad all the attention was on the redhead. He still hadn't got the piece of corn out of his nose. He tried blowing it out, but it wouldn't budge. He'd tried breathing hard but that just made him sound like he had adenoids. It was painful, and embarrassing, but he just might have to dig it out, which he absolutely refused to do at the table. He saw Win, and a couple others on the far end of the table looking at him and his face flamed in humiliation.

A napkin appeared in front of him, a clean, white linen napkin from the high-class food line. "Here, kid. It's a good thing I like you, or I'd just let you choke to death on it."

Cloud didn't want all their eyes on him. He was sure they were laughing at him. All his feelings of inadequacy, of being less were rearing up. He couldn't do this. He couldn't. He looked up at Reno in near panic. Reno wasn't laughing at him. He wasn't sneering in contempt. It was almost like he was daring Cloud to rise above it, to be tougher. One sleek, red eyebrow rose in challenge. Cloud swallowed back the tears and everything else. He took the napkin and blew the food out in one gross lump.

"I wouldn't choke from corn in my nose; I'd asphyxiate," he said, "Get your facts straight if you're going to pretend to be all knowing and all powerful." Reno smirked in approval.

"Who said I'm pretending, yo? After all, I've got roast beef and you've got corn hash." There was really no arguing with that.

* * *

  


Just before supper finished, Cloud's PHS rang. There was a text message from Hansin to meet for unarmed combat practice. This was their code for wanting a meeting. Cloud sent back an affirmative and excused himself from the group when they went in search of whatever amenities the cadet dorms had to offer.

The southwest small gym, as it was officially listed as, was a tiny room, maybe the size of a large boardroom. Tseng had showed it to Cloud, saying that it was the perfect place for him and Hansin to meet. He was right. The 'gym' had no windows, no attached locker room, no weights or equipment, and was way far away from the main part of the cadet grounds. Hansin was waiting for him when he arrived, tapping his foot, and looking at his watch.

"You called?" Cloud said.

"Hello, Cloud," his partner said pointedly. Cloud blushed and ducked his head. He had been impolite by not greeting Hansin. He mumbled a greeting, which the older cadet decided to accept. "There's been a development over the break."

"Some boy was killed, right?" Cloud said, "They're talking about it at supper."

"Yes, well," Hansin coughed, put out that Cloud already knew. "Forensics confirm that Descartes and Carrew were there. They found traces of two others, both repeat attackers."

"Witnesses?"

Hansin shook his head. "Unwilling to testify. Unfortunately, Descartes is well known in the area where the attack took place. Everybody knows he's an A4 and they looked the other way." Cloud closed his eyes in sympathetic pain. 'What a fucking horrible way to die,' he thought, 'help right there but not helping'. He shuddered, too easily able to imagine it.

"So it changes nothing?" Cloud asked.

"It ups the risk of injury but, if you don't fight back, they'll have no reason to hurt you, and, if all goes right, I'll step in before they do any serious harm."

"Are they supply officers?"

"Mmm, kind of. Descartes works in Stores. You'll probably see him sometime this week, once you get your chit." The chit was a credit voucher that Shin-Ra issued to its military in lieu of better pay.

Although they were supplied with the basics—uniform, toiletries, and such—security personnel could use the chit to buy luxuries like cigarettes, booze, nicer quality soap or underwear; things like that. By working in Stores, Descartes would meet and interact with most of the military on site. He'd get to hear all the latest about the cadets, who was being considered for which program; who was being favoured by whom. It was a good place to hunt from.

It would be easy enough to put himself in front of Descartes then. He didn't feel happy about that, but as Tseng had said in the hotel, he'd prefer to have this over and done with.

"Do you have anything to tell me?" Hansin asked.

"No, nothing's happened since we last saw each other a few hours ago."

"Really? What about your roomie? The one the clerk warned you about," he dug, wanting some dirt.

"Oh, yeah. Reno. He's a convicted criminal. Caught trying to 'borrow' a car. He joined Shin-Ra as the lesser of two evils. He's alright."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you'd think so." Hansin's tone was snide, close to condescending, and Cloud really wanted to call him on it but Hansin was a B and his backup. He couldn't afford to make him angry.

Instead, Cloud swallowed his anger and said mildly, "I do think so." Hansin merely grunted. Silence fell between them until the Turk wanna-be bid Cloud a curt good night and left. The cadet called out a soft reply but didn't shift from his position in the middle of the room. He was beginning to get a very bad feeling about the quality of his working relationship with the man who was supposed to save him from being gang-raped and maybe killed.

He was right to be concerned, although not for those reasons. Hansin, for all his airs, wasn't very good at his job. He left the room in a huff and never noticed the sly shadow that followed him to his room.

* * *

  


As predicted, Cloud encountered Corporal William Descartes when he was given his chit, which happened sooner than Hansin had guessed. They all got a chit on the second day. Of course, Reno immediately tried to talk Cloud and Cubby out of theirs.

Descartes was both exactly what he'd been expecting and nothing like it at all. For one thing, he seemed a lot younger than the image Cloud kept in his head. He looked at him surreptitiously and realized that he was only four years older than he was. Cloud had been picturing the A4 older and harder because of what he'd done.

He was also exactly what Cloud had imagined because he oozed contempt and mockery. He looked at all the cadets as inferior creatures, with no brains and no feelings. They were meant to be his toys. When he looked Cloud's way, the young blond couldn't help his instinctive shudder as fear crawled up his spine.

This man had killed. And enjoyed it.


	9. Settling In

* * *

The next morning, there was a message waiting for Cloud with the dorm's guard. It was in a sealed envelope with no stamp, no indication of who had left it. He knew though. He knew who had sent it and what it was, and his stomach clenched.

"Getting love notes already, kid?" Reno asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Why would they look at me when they could have you?" It was easy to deflect Reno's attention—certainly easier and safer—than telling him the truth.

"Like I'd fucking have anybody here, yo."

They were outside now, one foot outside. It was enough. Reno had his lighter out and his cigarette lit before his second foot had cleared the entranceway. The dorms were non-smoking, Reno, believing the rules didn't apply to him, had lit up in the upstairs hall. Kingston, one of the dorm guards, who had to have hidden cameras planted in all the common areas, was also freakin' _huge_. The largest human being either of them had ever seen. He had appeared moments later to rip the cigarette out of Reno's mouth.

Reno had decided that, in this one instance, he would abide by the rules. At least until he found the hidden cameras.

"So, who's sending you letters this early in the term?" He'd keep asking until he found out. Reno hated not knowing everything that was going on around him. It made him feel vulnerable and he wasn't fucking having that.

Cloud sensed the redhead's determination and figured it was better to give him something. "My mother's sick. This is just an update on what's going on with her."

"Your mama can write?" Reno teased. They'd been through the 'inbred, ignorant, hillbilly" versus 'unthinking, drugged out, hoodlum' series of insults yesterday, but Cloud didn't feel up to continuing the battle. He just wanted to know what they'd found.

"Give me a minute," and he moved to the side of the streaming mass of cadets, all hurrying to their first class. He stared at the plain envelope. Inside was the information he'd sold his body for. All he had to do was open it.

"You gonna open that, or just stare a hole through it?" Reno slouched against the side of the dorm building. Cloud jumped. He hadn't noticed the redhead leaving the crowd to join him. The boy looked at his older roommate, eyes wide and frightened, and somehow pleading for reassurance that everything would be okay. A small frown crossed Reno's brow. Suddenly, Strife looked so young. "I can open it for you, yo." He offered, and surprised himself.

That did it. Cloud gulped a breath, and shook his head jerkily. He tore open the envelope. It was beautifully handwritten, like the menu at the Hildorf.

_Cadet Strife,_

_The medical team reports that they discovered a lump in your mother's left breast. This could be nothing. We've arranged for your mother to be taken to the healer in Rocket Town as he has a mastered Sense materia. Once they have a more complete diagnosis, they will determine what treatments, if any, are advised. We will keep you informed._

_S_

Cloud read it again. A lump. It wouldn't be nothing, he already knew that, but what if it was something untreatable, irreversible? He'd still have to go through with his part of the agreement, wouldn't he? Because Lind and Sephiroth would have done what they promised. _Could_ he go through with it? What he'd done with Zack was so, so…. The thought of someone doing _that_ to him in violence made his gorge rise. If his ma died anyway then there was no reason to go on, except that he'd agreed.

"Is your ma okay?"

Reno's voice pulled Cloud out of his contemplation of a nebulous future. "Um, they don't know for sure yet." He turned to his nosy roommate, folding and tucking the note away securely. "They'll write when they know more." The redhead shrugged, and let Strife lead him away, although he was already planning to read the note for himself later.

* * *

  


Shin-Ra might advertise their employee anti-harassment policies to the public, but there didn't seem to be anything like that for the cadets. There were always comments being made: sexual, racial, mental, and so on. It didn't stop at touching although most of the physical harassment was fairly mild: bums got goosed, wedgies got given, there was the occasional fight that got out of hand and resulted in medical treatment but it rarely got more serious than that. Since it stayed 'light' no one put a stop to it—or even protested much—as there was a strict hierarchy of who could harass whom.

Freshmen could harass each other as long as they were close enough in class, sophomores harassed any of the first years and other sophomores, and seniors harassed everybody but the undergrads. Undergrads for the most part, ignored the lower ranked cadets. Reno, who had theories for most things, thought it was because they were too busy ass-kissing the people above them to care what went on with the peons.

As a freshman, and a cute one he was told, Cloud often ended the day feeling like his butt would never recover from all the pinching, slapping and grabbing it had endured. Reno got comments too, with his bright hair, lean face and striking blue eyes, but he broke the fingers of the first couple of guys who grabbed him and it never happened again.

It was brutal and humiliating, but somehow they all got used to it. There were too many other things going on. In fact, it was a crazy blur.

He'd thought the first days of Recruitment had been bad, this was worse because staff expected the cadets to already know a lot of the basics. They had a lot less patience for those who had trouble keeping up. The first day was orientations, assessments, and medical exams followed by a whirlwind of instructions and locations and books and people all jumbled up with lots and lots of noise.

Surprisingly, it was Reno who steadied him, with his 'don't give a fuck' attitude. Nothing bothered him or, at least, nothing seemed to. He laughed at seniors insulting him, shrugged off instructors yelling at him, and winked at Cloud in amusement at every violation noted in his file.

He couldn't understand why Reno had...he supposed 'adopted him' was the term. He didn't have the redhead's kind of courage. Sure, he stood beside Reno when they were caught after some misdemeanour, and he'd never admitted who'd initiated it (usually Reno). He tried to keep his face impassive but, as soon as they were released, he'd run to the nearest bathroom and puke his guts out. Reno never threw up from nerves. He just stood by the sinks with a cup of water and made jokes about bad breath, while Cloud rinsed his mouth out and scrubbed his face.

Cloud didn't discourage Reno's attention, not really. There were two reasons for this. First, being the slum rat's enemy was a damn bad idea, as Victor Moore found out.

Victor-So Very Superior-Moore, discovered that he was registered in the Building Maintenance program where they learned how to unclog the plumbing and shine up the floors. Next, he was issued with the wrong uniform; he was supposed to have the basic brown of the military cadets but his, for some reason, was the mint green of a botanical science trainee. Everyone commented on how pretty it was and even he, the elite B, was using a liniment on his ass at the end of the day. Then, his medical chart listed that he had a problem with constipation and he was given an enema.

With each mistake, each painful moment, each administrative error, Reno smiled a little meaner. He didn't just smile though, he poked and mocked and laughed at all of Victor's threats of retribution. When Victor finally struck out at Reno in a temper, he was dropped onto his stomach, his arm twisted painfully up his back, and a knife was at his throat before the others in the room could blink.

"You listen to me, bitch," Reno growled, digging his knee into the B2's spine, "your daddy may be something back in the world but in here you are less than garbage. You don't know shit and you can't fight for shit, so you shouldn't go pissing me off. You have two choices; you stay here and treat me with respect, or you fuck the hell off and stay out of my sight. If you don't do either of those things," he paused, pulling Victor's head up by the hair and smiling evilly at him, "well, let's just say an enema isn't the worst thing that can happen." Accidents happen, _fatal_ accidents happen.

Last they heard Victor had transferred over to the Business program.

The other reason Cloud didn't try hard to discourage Reno was simple. He was scared. He was lonely, and young, and unsure and scared and being around Reno, Cloud could sometimes feel that confidence rubbing off on him. It probably wasn't true, but it was nice to think it.

Well, then there was the food, so there were actually three reasons to keep on Reno's good side.

Each meal, Reno went to the upper class line and brought back plates loaded with the fresh, rich food offered to the privileged. It wasn't enough to feed all three of them, but it was enough to relieve the unremitting blandness of the lower class menu. Reno said it was a reward for being his 'crew'. Crew being the people who helped him get away with stuff.

Among other things, Cloud would act as the redhead's diversion, often without knowing about it beforehand. Reno had discovered that Cloud, with his big eyes, shy manner, and that untameable hair, was perfect for distracting secretaries and assistants while Reno did all manner of unofficial things to official records. He was pretty good with store clerks, too.

Cubby first won the redhead's approval by saying, with the stupidly dreamy expression of the truly besotted, that it would have been worth _anything_ to drive an actual Forsch 954. It was Cubby who helped the redhead with his math because you can't be a pilot if you can't figure out your lift to weight ratio, or was it weight to drag ratio? Cloud could never remember, but the two of them would spend hours comparing fixed wing versus rotary aircraft. The young blond didn't doubt for a moment that his unclassified, uneducated, roomie would one day be up in the sky.

Reno never said thanks, never acknowledged verbally, that he appreciated what they did, except that the two of them got given goodies from the high-class table. Cubby would often give his over to his friend, Dole, in a vain attempt to cheer the kid up. It didn't work and one day Dole snapped. He threw a punch at William Descartes in Stores. The other cadets managed to drag him away before anything serious could happen but it was the end of him as a pilot. He was pulled out of military training and put into Mechanical Engineering instead. He would never fly planes, but maybe he'd learn how to design them.

* * *

  


To over-energetic teens who expected to be taught to fight, or shoot, or fly, the course list seemed a little strange: History? Language? _Personal Hygiene?_ they moaned. Shin-Ra might as well have Art Appreciation. Weapons and Tactics were scheduled in, and there were huge blocks devoted to Physical Training, but still _Personal Hygiene?_

It was Reno, of course, who spoke what everyone was thinking. They were in the History class at the time, which was located in a huge lecture hall that swallowed the group of cadets, but allowed the instructor's voice to roll and echo quite nicely. Which seemed to be the point.

"What the fuck do we need this shit for?" his nasal, below-the-plate voice rang out.

"Well," the instructor responded, vowels long and plummy, and so very, very proper, "it can only help us to know where we have come from when we envision where we want to be."

"Well," Reno drawled in perfect mimicry, "I come from Under The Plate, and I want to be Somewhere Else. Later, yo," and he left. Cloud could only wish he'd had the balls to do that because it was obvious by the end of the first class that the 'history' they would learn was nothing more than pro Shin-Ra propaganda, cleaned up and regurgitated.

Weapons class looked like more fun. The instructor was a solid wall of a man, built wide and high. He was the stereotypical sergeant portrayed in every war movie ever made. He talked at maximum volume and spat the words out like bullets.

"Yew little gurlies, are gunna **learn** how tew handle weapons! Yew will learn how tew **kill** yer enemies using those weapons. **And** yew will learn tew like it!"

Those unfortunate enough to be standing close to Instructor R.I. Purdy – whose name _had_ to be a joke, received an unexpected gift. Since he had organized the class with the shortest in front, Cloud was one of those lucky few. When the blond wiped the spit off his face, he was further treated to a pissed-off instructor yelling and spitting in his eye from not even a finger's width away.

"Does the presence of my spit offend yew, **Miss** ter Strife? Can the pretty, little princess not **tolerate** a few bodily fluids? Do yew think I should be more **careful** of all yew **gurlies**? Do yew, **Miss** terStrife?"

Cloud knew he should keep his mouth shut, but Instructor Purdy's little speech was almost exactly what the sergeant had said in that silly Wutaiin War flick he'd seen with Zack. Practically before he had the thought, and definitely before his brain could sensor it, out popped, "SARGE! NO, SARGE!" in perfect mimicry of the movie's doomed, young hero.

It was easy to understand how the movie had become number one in the theatres when over half the class burst out laughing, clearly getting the reference. At least they thought it was funny. Instructor Purdy did not.

" **Dew yew think yew are funny, MISSter Strife?** I have **seen** that movie, and it is an **insult** tew be com **pared** to that fake, piece of shite. **Dew yew hear me, MISSter Strife?** "

They could probably hear him in Wutai. _'Don't say it, don't say it!_ "Sir! Yes, Sir!" He let out a relieved breath.

"Dew yew know **why** he was a fake piece of shite, **Miss** ter Strife?" Before Cloud could answer, Purdy was back in his face, volume turned up to ear-splitting, " **I'LL TELL YEW WHY HE WAS A FAKE PIECE OF SHITE**!"

He stalked in front of the class, "Because the **point** of training yew **pathetic pukes** is not for yew tew die for **your** country. It is so that **yew** can make the other poor, puke die fer **his**! **DEW YEW HEAR ME**?"

As one, the whole class answered, "SARGE! YES, SARGE!" Ensuring both Instructor Purdy's nickname and Cloud's reputation as a guy with brass balls.

Unlike Cloud, many of the cadets had very little formal training in basic math or language skills. One thing about being in the military, whether they were reading orders or doing inventory, they would need to know how to do these things.

Some couldn't add or subtract, let alone do complex equations. Most could read regular print, but reading cursive, let alone writing it, had them clutching their hair. Cloud was actually ahead in these classes because Mayor Lockheart had to let him be tutored with his daughter. Because of this, Cloud was often 'volunteered' as teacher's aide, walking the aisles and helping anyone who needed it.

After Reno's performance in History, Cloud was surprised when his delinquent friend showed up, and stayed, for both the Math and Language classes. The reason behind Reno's math attendance was easy to figure out—those speed to lift ratios again—but his reason for staying in Language was more obscure.

At first, Cloud was convinced it had more to do with what their instructor wore rather than any desire on his part to make his writing legible. The redheaded lech had many complimentary things to say about Instructor Tory's legs and her butt, and how they looked in those short, tight skirts. He especially liked how the material hugged her curves when she reached up to write on the board.

It reminded Cloud of Zack, of what he'd said that first day when Cloud had been wearing his old, tight pants. _Your ass deserves to be hugged_. He shook himself. He was bored in Language anyway and thinking of the dark-haired, bouncy First was no way to keep his mind on the lecture.

Then, one evening he returned to their room after another pointless meeting with Hansin and found Reno laboriously reading from the Language textbook. He had his tongue out, when he wasn't sounding out the words, and he kept his finger on the page to mark his place but he was definitely doing the assigned reading.

"Hey, Reno," he said casually. There was no way he would comment on Reno's activity and maybe make him feel bad or defensive about it. That's how he'd been treated most his life. He wasn't going to make anyone else feel like that.

"Shrimp," Reno replied absently.

Cloud was about to roll into his bunk when Reno stopped him. "What the fuck is this word, preem-in-nent?"

Cloud looked at it, "pre-em-in-ent," he answered, separating the syllables, "It means better or superior. Like Victor thinks he is." Reno snorted in appreciation.

"That doesn't fit with the rest of the sentence, yo," he complained.

Cloud read it through, "Yes it does. They're talking about what's best way to restore peace to Wutai."

"They are?" He squinted at the page. "I don't see 'get the fuck out of it' as an option, do you?"

It was Cloud's turn to snort. "Not a chance. Remember, this book was written by Shin-Ra. There's no way they'd say that." The blond had been skimming the essay as he spoke. Knowing it was something he'd have to read anyway. "That can't be right." He muttered.

"Yo, that's what I said."

"Not the sentence; the whole paragraph. It can't say what I think it says."

He took the book away from his roommate, to get a better look at it. Reno promptly took it back, laughing. "Grab a ladder, shrimp, and get your ass up here. You can help me with this shit."

That started a nightly ritual of reading the textbooks to each other. At first, it was just the two of them, but Cubby soon joined in, taking a turn reading the chapters aloud while the others followed along in their own textbooks. Reno rarely read out loud, and he wouldn't let them read anything he wasn't interested in or couldn't see the benefits of. The History books were ignored completely. Reno had decided the instructor was a pompous ass and, since nothing of any value ever came out of an ass, why listen to the instructor.

After Victor was routed, it was just the three of them. Sometimes they'd read; sometimes they'd help with each other's essays. They practiced moves the Sarge had taught them and made fun of the way he talked. Often, Reno and Cubby would sit and drool over the capabilities of various aircraft and sports cars; they spent hours at that.

Cloud imagined this was what it would've been like to have brothers. He didn't forget that Reno would sacrifice everyone else before placing himself at risk, and he knew Cubby didn't really care for anything but his airplanes, but it was still nice. It made him smile inside with a secret bubble of contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a war movie buff, from 'To Hell and Back' to 'Tropic Thunder' I've seen tonnes and enjoyed many of them. Who guessed that the 'stupid Wutai war flick' Cloud & Zack see in Chapter 4 is based on 'The Dirty Dozen' starring Lee Marvin? The DI in this chapter is based on Gunnery Sergeant Hartman in 'Full Metal Jacket'. The line Purdy uses at the end is paraphrased from this famous quote: _"No bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country." General George S. Patton, US Army._
> 
> To understand why Cubby and Reno drool over a _car_ check out my inspiration at  http://www.teslamotors.com/roadster I want one. Red would be fine. :D


	10. Routine Alarms

* * *

_Cadet Strife,_

_The healer has concluded his examination. He will proceed immediately with treatment. This will include a combination of materia use and surgery. He is planning the operations for later this week and expects them to be completely successful. We will keep you informed._

_S_

The first time Cloud was seriously harassed was nearly a month into the semester. It happened after Physical Training. They were currently working on their endurance so PT consisted of doing the same set of exercises over and over and over again, and then repeating the process. By the end of the class, they were all dirty, sweaty, and sore. At least the schedule allowed plenty of time for hot showers, so the locker room was always busy.

Since he wasn't alone, he figured he was safe. After all, you'd have to be a complete exhibitionist to assault someone in a crowded room. Cloud couldn't imagine it so he couldn't imagine anyone being okay with it. That could be why he didn't recognize the attack when it came.

"Look, Tony. Isn't that a pretty kitten," somebody said. Cloud blithely continued soaping his mucky body and watching the brownish water swirl away.

"I bet he likes to be stroked," said another voice, closer but still unknown and nearly buried in the noise of teenage boys taking showers, chatting, flicking wet towels at each other, and generally being rowdy and obnoxious.

"Let's find out." Suddenly a hand pressed onto his shoulder. "Hello, pretty kitty. Can I make you purrrrr?" The last word was drawled right into his ear as the hand moved firmly down his spine to his butt, where it curved around and grabbed on.

Cloud jumped, but the guy had his arm almost wrapped around his back and his hand on his ass kept him locked into place. "What the hell?" he yelled, "What are you doing?"

The second guy, standing out of sight somewhere behind him, laughed softly. The first guy, the guy with his hand on Cloud's butt, moved closer, putting his mouth nearly on Cloud's, "We're introducing ourselves. We want to get to know you better."

Cloud twisted his head away and pushed at the chest beside him. "Not interested."

"Aww," said Ass-grabber, "a pretty little kitty like you needs a group, for fun... and protection."

He finally pulled the fingers out of his ass and placed his back to the shower wall. It wasn't a full wall. In fact, it was barely chest high on most of the cadets. It was impossible that the other cadets didn't know what was happening in Cloud's stall but no one was interfering. "I have a mentor, thanks anyway."

His PHS was lying on the top of the wall, within easy reach as Tseng had instructed so he hit the panic button; also as he'd been instructed. It should bring Hansin running.

Ass Grabber reached out with one thick finger and made as if to run it down Cloud's exposed chest. Cloud swatted it away, eyes slitting in anger. "Not a very good one," said Back-up Boy, "after all he left you all alone, and vulnerable. We could do a much better job of taking care of you, little kitten."

What pissed him off, more than the other cadets pretending this little scene wasn't happening, was the fact that he was naked and they were not. He felt skinny and tiny and weak and helpless. It didn't help that the collar tabs announced the two as being sophomores. In the cadet world that meant they had rank over freshman Cloud. They were probably higher than D class as well, just to make this situation even more fucked up.

"Hey, shrimp! Where the fuck you hiding?" Reno's shout echoed in the tiled room. "We got things to do, yo!"

Rescue was at hand. Cloud looked Ass Grabber right in the eye, "Over here!" he shouted back.

"Like that fucking helps! If you jump I might be able to spot your hair." Despite the teasing, it was only moments before Reno's ambled down the aisle and up to Cloud's stall.

It was long enough for Ass Grabber to whisper to him, "Is that your 'mentor', little kitten. Do you think he'll sell you?"

"You got company?"

Cloud hadn't broken eye contact since Reno had called out. "They were just leaving."

Reno said, "Doesn't look like they're leaving," at the same time Back-up Boy oozed "We'd like to stay," and examined Reno from the hair to the feet. He gave a hum of approval, "Ooo, I like them dirty."

Reno looked at Back-up Boy, "Then you're in the wrong fucking place, yo. This is the _showers_." With one contemptuous flick of his eyes, he dismissed Back-up boy, "Moron."

"Is this your mentor, kitten?" Ass Grabber also looked at Reno, "You chose this skinny, slum rat to guard your… back?"

"Woah, you harassing my roomie?" Reno looked very surprised, which made Cloud instantly suspicious. He watched as the redhead moved very deliberately to place himself between the two sophomores.

"You're not kitten's mentor?" Ass Grabber purred. Cloud was pretty sure he was now thinking that he'd get two for one. He was also pretty sure that Reno was thinking the same thing.

"Shit, no, but he's got one. Hey, kid, did you wanna go with these guys?" Reno asked all casual. He'd looked just as relaxed before flattening Victor Moore, Cloud remembered.

"No," his answer was flat and hard, he'd moved to a ready stance, up on the balls of his feet, "but they're second years, Reno." He warned the cocky redhead.

"Got it, they don't know the word 'no'." Which wasn't actually what Cloud meant but if that's how Reno chose to take it… "Did you wanna fight?" Reno asked the one who'd groped Cloud, his tone hopeful.

"Fight for a chance to pet little kitten here?" said Ass Grabber, reaching out as if to stroke the blond. Again, Cloud swatted his hand away.

"Nah, just fight. Haven't had any decent action since I got here, yo. Buncha upper plate pussies."

The two sophomores laughed. Cloud knew they were thinking that they were bigger, heavier and had more training than the redheaded cadet. Then there was the ego factor, "We don't fight freshmen and, even if we did? We wouldn't fight a slum rat like you."

"Good enough, shit brains. Let's play takedown." Suddenly the redhead was in motion. An elbow slung backwards got Back-up Boy in the face. His head flew back into the wall and bounced out again. Blood sprayed from his nose and he started to wail.

Cloud, recognizing Reno's moves somewhat better after a month, lashed out with his fist and landed a solid hit on Ass Grabber's kidneys. This turned him slightly and Reno took advantage by kicking him in the balls. Hard. Ass Grabber collapsed in a whimpering heap, clutching himself.

Back-up Boy stopped clutching his face and grabbed Reno's hair. He _was_ going to use it to reel in the wiry teen but instead Reno used it as a guide to throw his left arm around the older boy's neck. He locked his grip forcing the sophomore to bend and then shot a series of hard jabs into his ribs, his kidneys, anything he could reach.

Ass Grabber, proving himself tougher than he'd seemed so far, reached out with his hand to grab Cloud's leg, but it was wet and slick and his hand slid right off; but it alerted Cloud to the danger so he lashed out with his foot, heel forward to protect his toes like Zack had taught him. The kick landed high on the ribcage, close to the heart, there was a 'crack' and Ass Grabber was gasping for breath.

Cloud turned to see Reno finishing off Back-up Boy by pounding his braced left elbow into the vulnerable spine. With a grunt, he joined his friend on the wet shower floor. The whole fight took less than five minutes. There were a few cadets watching but most continued on with their routine, either not wanting to be involved or not wanting to be late for their next class.

"Well, that was fucking disappointing," Reno stated contemptuously, "You'd think a couple second years could do better than that, yo."

"They weren't expecting you to attack," Cloud said then frowned. Was he defending them?

Reno was disgusted, "If you're in a fight, or nearly, you should think anybody who comes up to you is a threat. Who the fuck is teaching these guys survival skills, yo?" He looked at the collapsed and/or moaning duo laying on the floor, "Do you think I can ask one of them?" Cloud was startled into a chuckle. Reno sounded so outraged; he was probably serious about asking who the sophomores' instructor was.

Just then, Hansin came trotting up. Reno saw him first. His scowl didn't change much, "Useless prick," he muttered. Cloud didn't want to agree but, if this was his back-up's first test, he'd failed. He didn't know why but his roommate had decided long ago that he didn't like, or approve, of Cloud's 'mentor' and, like most of Reno's likes and dislikes, he had no hesitation in letting the world know.

"Are you all right, Cloud? I heard there was something going on."

He didn't get a chance to respond. Reno had his own priorities, "You know these guys?"

Hansin looked at the two downed teens, "Um, I think so."

"Fuck, princess, they're second years like you," scorn dripped from Reno's voice. "You can't place them?"

"It's just they look different, with all the blood and stuff."

Reno just sneered, "You know who's teaching them survival?" Hansin blinked at Reno in shock, "because whoever it is, is fucking shitty and I don't want to be in his class, yo."

Cloud was tired of being the only naked one. He slipped past the pair, sniping at each other—at least Reno was sniping, Hansin was floundering as he usually did around the convicted felon—and grabbed up his towel. "We need to move it, Reno," he said, "Class in ten."

"Okay, kid," he made no move to follow when Cloud went to the locker area. He put his hand out to block Hansin in, waiting until the blond was out of earshot. "I know Cloud has a panic button, and I know he pressed it. Next time, you might want to move your ass a little faster, yo. It won't look good on your transcript if your apprentice gets killed, will it." With a little shove, he abandoned the stunned Turk wanna-be.

The next attack took place on the payday, so Cloud was never sure whether the boy, a first year cadet from one of the other programs, was after his ass or his wallet. It was a brief tussle that ended when the blond jabbed his attacker sharply in the diaphragm. While the other cadet lay gasping like a landed fish, Cloud took off running and didn't look back.

Then there were the two guys he'd come across harassing one of the secretaries. She was one of Reno's favourite targets, sweet and naive; the redhead could get around her in a heartbeat, but she always gave Cloud a home-baked treat; a cookie or a muffin. Her name was Darla. He remembered it because it was so close to darling and that what he secretly thought she was. He wasn't sure what class or rank the guys grabbing at her were, he didn't think of it till later. All he thought was she was one of the few genuinely nice people he'd met in Midgar and, 'what would Zack do?'

With no other thought than that, he yelled, ran in and assumed a defensive posture. They both turned to face this new entertainment, which was good because Darla got away, and it was bad, because Cloud realized these weren't cadets: these were full-fledged members of the Army...and they were drunk.

He tried to run but they caught him and were in the middle of beating the crap out of him when Darla arrived with members of the Civil Guard. He was taken to the infirmary, Cured, and released with a warning not to be so stupid. The secretary pressed charges, which she could do since she was an adult _and_ a B4 and her attackers disappeared. Probably into that materia mine of Reno's.

Of course, Darla talked to her friends, who talked to their friends. Suddenly, Cloud Strife was being talked about as a hero and fussed over in the Admin Building. The next time Reno took him to distract the office staff; he got given sandwiches, cookies, cake, and sweetbuns. The quality of the goodies certainly topped what even Reno could get in the high-class food line.

Not everyone thought that the cadet deserved the praise. One definitely felt it wasn't right for a _D3_ to be lauded for interrupting his betters. After all they'd just been having a little fun. William Descartes, self-proclaimed protector of upper class privilege, decided to keep an ear out for information on little Cloud Strife, the darling of the secretary circuit because, honestly, creatures like that needed to learn their place.


	11. Is It Good News?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains explicit sexual violence, and not the fun kind. If you can't bring yourself to read it, but still want to know what happens, download an abridged version:
> 
> Abridged PDF here: www.mediafire.com/?9kgiij4niz9evo4  
> Abridged ePub here: www.mediafire.com/?se6mx0pum0mogle

* * *

_Cadet Strife,_

_The healer says the operation was a success. The lump was malignant but was completely eradicated during treatment. Your mother shows no signs of related growths or other health problems. She will be kept in Rocket Town while she recovers but the Healer estimates that she can go home within the week. We will keep you informed if there is any change to her condition._

_S_

His mother was healed. She was okay now.

His heart started thumping, in fear or celebration, maybe, he didn't know. He couldn't feel his legs. They had kept their side of the deal, now he had to keep his. He had to do go through with it. Let himself get raped.

_Shit! I can't do this._

She wasn't going to die. She was going to get better.

He was breathing too fast. Everything was blurring at the edges. He was going to throw up, or pass out, maybe both. He had to sit down. Hansin would step in and stop it before it got too far. Except that Hansin was turning out to be a lazy prick. Or stupid, which was just as bad.

_I can't!_

She'd be going home soon. She'd be there when he finally got home.

Cloud was panicking and he knew it. He knew it but he couldn't make himself stop. He walked away from the crowds, from the main buildings; someplace he could indulge this idiotic, _pointless_ , fit of self-indulgence without anybody seeing.

It was a serious mistake.

He walked so far then just sat, as if his legs had been pulled out from him. He crossed his legs, braced his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, and just breathed. In for ten seconds. Out for ten seconds. In for...

"Well hello, pretty kitty. We've been looking for you."

It was the two from the attack in the showers: Ass Grabber and Back-up Boy. They wore looks of smug triumph on their faces, yet it still took him a moment to understand that he was in danger.

"Doesn't he look sooo lonely."

"We'll keep him company...good company."

They came closer. They were going to _grope_ him. He wasn't up to this. Didn't they understand, he couldn't deal with this now.

Cloud was hampered by several factors. There were two of them and it was never good to be outnumbered. He was smaller than either of them and despite all his hard work his muscles didn't have the strength he would have in even two more years. The worst problem was he was still dazed from his reaction to the letter. One of Cloud's biggest advantages was his speed; he could usually move faster and think quicker than his opponents—not today.

Today it seemed to take lifetimes for him to understand he was being attacked, it took another lifetime for him to decide to stand up and face them; and somehow the order to defend himself wasn't going from his brain to his limbs right. He meant to punch Ass Grabber in the neck or groin or other vulnerable point, but his swing didn't connect. It didn't even come close. Before he could recover his balance, Back-up Boy had moved behind him, grabbed his arm, and twisted it up behind his back.

"Now, now, little cat, we don't want you scratching," He knocked the back of Cloud's knees out. Cloud dropped putting more stress on his arm and making him cry out. The two young men just laughed and forced him to bend over.

Cloud kicked out, or tried to; it was feeble and unaimed. Ass Grabber took advantage of the vulnerable position it put the young blond in by grabbing his leg and holding it up. "Flip him over," he told his compatriot.

Cloud squirmed and wriggled, hoping to break their hold and create some weakness. He punched out, fingers clawed, trying to reach eyes or nostrils or some vulnerable point. He kicked. He jerked his head trying to hit something tender with his thick, _stupid_ skull. His tormenters only laughed and admired his 'feistiness'.

Back-up Boy took hold of Cloud's arms and held them, crossed over his heaving chest. Ass Grabber placed all his weight over the boy's legs. He was the one who undid Cloud's pants and pulled them down, while Back-up Boy hummed in appreciation.

"Get off!" Cloud managed to shout. He freed an arm and struck out, hitting Back-up Boy a good one in the cheek. His triumph didn't last; Ass Grabber punched him hard just above his ear. Suddenly there were bright splotches in his vision and the world blurred out once again.

He noticed, from a distance, that there was a hand on his neck holding his forehead tight to the ground. He was back on his stomach, ass in the air, completely exposed to these men who would…

Reality came back with a _snap!_ They weren't going to stop at groping. They were going to, to penetrate him, like Zack had done but not. Not nicely, not with care. They were going to do it to _hurt._ They were going to _rape_ him.

"No!" he screamed, or tried to. They'd wrapped his belt around his wrists then fastened it around his head. He couldn't use his hands to fight, and by forcing his palms up to cover his mouth, they'd muffled any sounds he might make.

He was trapped and helpless, and they were going to...

He didn't care if it made him seem weak. He didn't care if it went against all the advice he'd been given about surviving rape and he really didn't care if they enjoyed it; he couldn't _not_ fight and scream and try to get away. He couldn't _not_ cry as one of them pushed into his dry, tight body; stretching, pulling, and tearing the sensitive tissues.

He wanted Zack. He wanted his mother. He wanted _anyone_ who would make it stop.

He couldn't see which one had penetrated him. The hand on his neck wouldn't let him turn his head, and he didn't want to open his eyes anyway. This wasn't just pain; this was being ripped in two. The pace picked up, the movement easier because his passage was slick from his own blood. It still hurt.

He was crying. Mucus was filling his nostrils. His mouth was covered. He couldn't breathe.

_Please make it stop!_

He tried to squirm away but they laughed and hands grabbed his hips, strong hand, bruising hands. They were touching him, holding him.

It hurt so much. It hurt _too_ much.

_Make it stop!_

Whoever was inside him was grunting and groaning in enjoyment. The other one was muttering encouragement, commenting on how good Cloud's ass looked, and saying what he would do when _he_ was inside the cadet.

His world was pain. It was fear. And panic. Desperation.

_Makeitstop! Makeitstop! Makeitstop!_

He thought his attacker was nearly done; he was moving faster and making more noise. When he stopped with a strangled sound Cloud figured he'd reached orgasm. He certainly felt a warm, wet spray across his back and legs. Then Cloud thought he heard movement, and a thud. Like two solid objects hitting each other. The second guy's muttering stopped. It was hard to tell. He might be screaming. It hurt so much.

He couldn't sense them anymore even though his legs were still pinned by the one behind him. He didn't know where they were, they could be anywhere. They'd stopped.

_Let it be over,_ please, _let it be over._

"Fuck Cloud, you gotta get a better protector. Hansin sucks ass," Reno said. "Hang on while I make sure this one's not gonna move."

Cloud managed to open his eyes. He moved his head a little and saw Back-up Boy twitching and blinking—trying to get his focus back. Reno walked over to him and kicked him in the head, hard. Back-up Boy grunted. Cloud saw his eyes roll to white, and his body took on the boneless sprawl of the truly unconscious.

"Now let's get you untied, then you can call Tseng and tell him to fire Hansin and that you want me instead."

Reno was talking about something, something that should alarm him, but he couldn't care. He wanted the belt off so he could move freely. He wanted his pants up so he was covered and protected. He wanted his Ma. He curled up on his side, knees almost touching his elbows as he tried to make himself very, very small. He didn't even hear himself whimper. He wanted this not to have happened.

Reno realized his roommate wasn't processing anything he said, but kept up his patter, light and irreverent as always. Even if the blond wasn't listening, he would hear Reno's voice and maybe would be comforted a little. He unfastened the belt, untwisting it from Cloud's arms. He forced Cloud to move his fingers so he knew they hadn't been seriously damaged.

Then came the hard part—getting the pants pulled up. As expected, the little guy didn't want someone touching around his thighs or hips but Reno just kept talking, cajoling and encouraging as he slowly worked them up. He knew Cloud would feel better when he wasn't as exposed.

When Cloud swatted his hands away and tried to take over the task, he peered at those large blue eyes and asked, "You in there, kid?" Cloud's movements were uncoordinated, jerky. He couldn't get a proper grip on his pants.

"Not really," Cloud answered. His voice was hoarse, not much above a whisper, but his feeble joke was a good sign.

"That's alright, kid. Take a little brain break...lift your hips," he instructed, "Reno's here. I'll take care of you." Reno never lost his patience, just kept up the chatter as he tugged on the pants until Cloud's ass was covered. He didn't bother fastening them as the medics would have them back off again fast enough.

If pulling up the boy's pants had been draining, having someone search his pockets would be worse, so Reno didn't even bother. Cloud was awake and sort of aware. "I need you to take out your PHS," he told his roommate, "We gotta call somebody, yo." Cloud just blinked, so Reno repeated it and repeated it until the blond finally dug out the PHS and looked at it. With a sigh, Reno took it from his hand and flipped it open.

If Cloud had been interested in watching Reno he would have wondered why the redhead didn't phone Campus Security. Or the Civil Guard. Or even the Infirmary. But he wasn't interested and he didn't wonder why his roommate searched through the PHS, until he found a specific number, grunting in triumph before punching it in. Instead, he wondered why he felt cold when the sun was shining.

"It hurts, Reno."

Reno sighed, his face unusually soft with sympathy, "I know, kid. Believe me. I know." He patted Cloud on the shoulder, "Hang on, help's coming." He turned his attention back to the phone when the call was picked up.

"Strife, is there a problem?" The voice was just what Reno expected it to be; calm, smooth, and unemotional.

"I think there's a problem, as Cloud just got raped, and not by the right guys, either. Another thing," he continued not letting the other man speak yet. He'd rehearsed this bit and didn't want to blow it. "Your boy is nowhere in sight, yo. You'd think, for a mission this important, that you'd pick someone competent to act as back up."

"Who is this?" The voice hadn't changed, still cool and in control. They could've been talking about chocobo breeding or something.

"Name's Reno," he answered, "and you must be Tseng. Cloud needs a medic fast. He's bleeding pretty badly."

"We have your location. We'll be there shortly," and he hung up. Reno did the same. Then he put the PHS down carefully and took several deep, steadying breaths while he wiped his sweaty hands. He'd just taken his future into his own hands, no more of this 'you'll be whatever Shin-Ra wants you to be' shit. After today, he'd either be a Turk or dead. He grinned; he'd hated being under someone else's control. He looked down at the young, blond and the smile disappeared.

He'd known, almost from the beginning that something was up with the mountain boy. There was no way he got through eight weeks of Recruitment without _someone_ figuring out he wasn't sixteen.

Then there was the love notes on expensive paper he'd tried to hide – good move not putting them in the cupboard. The procedures they'd reported on just weren't available to a lowly D3 unless he had a powerful patron. He was certainly pretty enough, if you liked boys, but Reno had ruled that out early. If some sugar legs had Cloud on a leash why the hell wasn't he installed within easy reach instead of spending all day in Cadet training?

That left some kind of deal, but what could some wet-behind-the-ears baby cadet do for the people who had the kind of pull needed to arrange the care Cloud's mama had got? It took him a while; people from under the plate weren't quite as diligent about enforcing the age of consent law (meaning they fucking ignored it), but he'd figured it out, and if Cloud was the bait, then Hansin was his back up because there's no way those two would've gotten together otherwise.

He'd followed the second year to a meet with Tseng, the Turk's number two guy. He'd gotten close enough to confirm his suspicions and to listen to Hansin bullshit about his good relationship with Cloud and the precautions he was taking with the kid. For some reason—envy, unrequited lust, or class prejudice—Hansin had a stick up his ass about the mountain boy.

Whatever the reason, the relationship had tanked early on and Cloud was walking around unprotected most of the time. Considering the target was an A4, Reno's disgust level at the wanna-be Turk skyrocketed. It was all he could do not to punch the bastard whenever he saw him.

He also knew an opportunity when he saw one. He didn't want to be an army grunt, having to obey stupid ass dickwads all the time. Being a Turk was a completely other matter—Turks had _style_ —so he decided to keep an eye on the mountain boy. It helped that he liked Cloud; the hillbilly had spine. Besides, low class peons like him and Strife should stick together in the middle class mass that was the Shin-Ra training program.

The way he figured it, something would happen, Reno would step in, be the hero, and he'd get a chance to introduce himself to Tseng. If this gamble paid off then Reno would be on his way to becoming a Turk and Cloud would have a better chance of coming out of this alive. It was just too bad that he hadn't noticed Cloud was missing until nearly twenty minutes into the class.

He looked at the kid, all huddled into himself. Nobody should have to go through this. He stroked through Cloud's stand-up hair, soothing the blond, wishing somebody had been there to do this for him, until Tseng finally arrived.


	12. Changing the Guard

* * *

  


Cloud woke up in a strange bed, with brightly striped curtains instead of walls. There was a window above his bed but a linen blind kept the light muted and soft. This was way nicer than the cadet dorms. It took him a moment to realize that he had a needle in his arm and a drip bag hanging from a hook built into the bed. He was in the infirmary.

Then it all rushed back: the note about his mom, his reaction, the attack. Ass Grabber and Back-up Boy. Reno.

He clenched his muscles in remembered pain, except there was none. Whatever damage the two sophomores had done, it was completely healed now—at least physically. He'd known, or at least imaged that he'd known, that rape wasn't just a crime against the body, that it would cause emotional damage as well. But he'd never imagined how, how _soiled_ he'd feel. Dirty with the memory of being weak and helpless, and without hope of ever scrubbing it away.

It wasn't until he sniffed that he realized he was crying. Tears were rolling from his open eyes and his nose was clogging up. He wanted a do-over and this time he wouldn't be so fucking _stupid!_

He heard footsteps in the center aisle and hurriedly scrubbed his face in his sheet. There were tissues on a table beside his bed and he tore one out and wiped his nose; trying to squeeze it dry rather than giving himself away by blowing. Maybe they weren't here for him.

They were here for him. There was a doctor he didn't know in a white lab coat, and General Sephiroth.

"Sir," Cloud croaked. If he hadn't been lying flat on his back he would've saluted.

"Cadet," the General responded, not saying anything more as the doctor came over with a Sense materia and checked his stats. With a hum of approval and nod, the doctor finished her examination and updated his chart.

She looked Cloud in the eye, "We've healed up all the physical damage you suffered; there won't be any lasting effects. We'll give you a couple potions, just in case." It wasn't reassuring. In fact, just the opposite. Was he wearing a big sign that said 'I'm a Victim. Abuse Me' on his back? Either she knew something about the mission and thought he should have potions on hand for _when_ he was attacked again, or else she knew his attackers had one of those STDs they'd talked about in Personal Hygiene. The infirmary didn't usually give 'take home' potions when discharging cadets.

"Do you have any questions about your treatment?" Cloud shook his head. "There are psychiatrists you can talk to if you feel the need. All you have to do is come to the front desk and we'll make the arrangements."

"When will I be out of here?"

"Probably an hour? It depends on the General." She smiled brightly, "Take care of yourself, Cloud." Then she left. Her comfortable, soft-soled shoes making no noise as she walked. Cloud watched as his fingers pleated the bed covering. It was easier than looking at the General. He heard a chair squeak as it was pulled over to the bed, and couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Sorry, Sir." The movement stopped and Cloud couldn't resist a peek at the intimidating SOLDIER. Slowly, Sephiroth lowered himself into the hospital chair.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Strife," he responded.

"But I've ruined the investigation. The guys that attacked me, they weren't the right ones. And now, you'll have to investigate and, when I testify, everyone will find out my age, and I was _stupid_ , Sir. I shouldn't have wandered off alone like that, not when I knew Hansin wasn't reliable. Just wasn't thinking, so… I'm sorry."

"Cloud, you haven't ruined anything."

"But Sir..." the cadet protested.

"Strife," the General hushed him, "There will be no investigation." Cloud looked at him in horror. No investigation? What about all those things he'd said about taking the Age of Consent Law so seriously. Did it only apply when it was convenient? Then the young blond shook his head at himself; of course it did. This was Shin-Ra.

"I don't know what you're thinking, Strife, but there will be no investigation because your attackers are dead." _Dead?_ Had they _killed_ them to protect the operation? His speculation must have been apparent because General Sephiroth explained further, a small, amused smile on his face.

"It was your rather remarkable roommate that killed them. Caught them in the act and took both of them out rather efficiently." Cloud blinked. He remembered Reno showing up. He'd kicked Back-up Boy in the head, but what had he done to Ass Grabber?

"Tseng is impressed and it takes a lot to do that. However, everyone will be told that you and Cadet Hansin killed them. If it helps, their DNA match samples taken at three of the other attacks. Not that you would've known that, but their families been told, and, as those details would be made public during any investigation, they will not be requesting one. There will be no punishment and the operation will continue."

"Officially, Hansin will remain your mentor, but Reno was most, hmm, persuasive about his lack of effectiveness so, for all practical purposes, your Turk contact will now be Reno. As your class _and_ roommate, he's in a better position to respond quickly, and he has proven most observant and resourceful."

Reno was going to be his back up? Reno, who made jokes and took nothing seriously. Ruthless, scary, practical, and deadly Reno. Cloud felt better about his chance of survival but that meant that he'd have to… he'd be attacked again and, and raped again. Maybe Reno would make it stop sooner but he'd still be…. again.

_I can't do it. Ican'tIcan'tIcan'tIcant'_

Despite appearances, Sephiroth wasn't an uncompassionate man. He looked at the boy lying on the bed. He looked so young; young and bruised and hurting. He, himself, had never been attacked as a cadet, but then, he'd always been different.

When he'd suggested the operation to Commander Lind, it hadn't occurred to him what exactly he was asking this young man to do. Well, it _had_ but in some vague way that denied the reality of it. This _child_ looking back at him, eyes haunted with the knowledge what he'd have to go through again; _this_ was the reality.

He sighed, "If you wish, we can cancel the operation. You won't have to leave Shin-Ra, and there will be no penalties invoked for not fulfilling the contract," he reassured the boy when he looked up in protest, "we'll just find something else for you to do." The Commander would be most upset that he was offering; _much good_ that _would do him,_ Sephiroth almost smiled.

Cloud was silent, considering the offer. It was tempting— _Odin's Balls,_ was it tempting! He could be safe. He wanted to be safe so that something like this never, ever happened to him again. But, but… it may not happen to him but it would happen to someone else. He saw the face of Cubby's friend, whose brother had been murdered by Descartes. And he saw Descartes, a man who had killed, gotten away with it, and was enjoying every moment.

_Ican't. Ican'tIcan'tIcan't_

I have to.

"What you said at the meeting, before, it's still true. They won't stop, they're having too much fun," he swallowed, throat dry, "I'm still your best chance, Sir." A long, powerful hand settled on his shoulder. It tightened briefly before releasing.

"Thank you, Cadet Strife," the General said, voice solemn, "We'll try to do better by you."

"Thank you, Sir." It barely qualified as a whisper.

It was nice that the General wanted to acknowledge what Cloud was volunteering to do, but Cloud just wanted him _gone_. He was going to cry again. He could feel it, the pressure behind the eyes and the shortness of breath. It wasn't going to be some dainty, quiet cry either; it was going to be an air gulping, snot rolling, wailing and flailing type of cry. And he didn't want General Sephiroth to see it.

He didn't want to do this. In fact, he was scared boneless at the idea. Everyone said he was a hero but he knew the truth; he was a fucking coward.

* * *

  


When the orderly wheeled him out of the Infirmary, there was a crowd waiting for him. Reno and Cubby, of course, but there was also Win and Bryant and a couple other classmates they hung around with. They crowded around him with noisy sympathy. They touched him in sympathy, or couldn't touch him at all. They looked away or looked him right in the eye. It was weird and embarrassing and, why were they here in the first place?

Hansin was there too, standing on the periphery, looking uncomfortable and faintly ashamed. Cloud saw him and, mindful of his instructions and the cover story, he approached his supposed mentor. He should thank him, for the rescue, but he couldn't get the lie out. "I have to say thank you for, you know, in the clearing. What you did, well, thank you."

Hansin, the asshole, at least looked mortified, but he managed to stumble out a response, "Cloud, I'm just sorry it took me so long."

Reno snorted, "You should be sorry, princess. C'mon, kid, let's get you back to your bunk. I've scarfed some chocolate cream cheesecake that should help you feel better." Reno steered him out of the entrance, the little horde following him and spreading out around the blond as kind of a walking wall. Cloud saw the point of it once they left the building; there were well-wishers and curiosity seekers standing outside waiting for him to emerge.

There were also a couple second years who looked death at Cloud. 'Friends of the deceased?’ he wondered. Cubby followed his gaze, "Don't worry about them, Cloud. You've got us to look out for you; and Hansin? He rocked! I couldn't believe it when I heard but _wow_!" Cubby rambled on, heaping praise on Hansin, but it wasn't Hansin Cloud looked at for reassurance, it was Reno. Reno had things, other than reassuring the little mountain boy, on his mind.

"So, did you score some Midnight Blood Work from a pretty nurse? I saw a couple when you got checked in, yo. Woulda almost been worth taking a knock to have them examine me."

Cloud looked at him, puzzled, "What do you mean?"

The redhead rolled his eyes, "Did one of the nurses sneak into your room and give you a blow job?"

There was nervous laughter from the group but Cloud just blinked and blushed. Stuff like that actually happened? "Um, no."

"Did you at least get a kiss? A nice deep one with some tonsil action...and a phone number so you can follow up on it later?" Cloud shook his head. "Not even a cheek peck?" Cloud shook his head again. "A breast squishing hug? Cookies? Anything" he asked, horrified as his roommate continued to answer 'no'. "So what _did_ you get out of your stay, yo?"

"Gave me some potions, in case something, y'know, happens later."

"Hi-potions?" the redheaded scammer asked. Hi-potions would be good.

"No, just regular potions."

Reno sneered a little but they were still better than nothing. "Do you have to give them back if you don't use 'em?"

"Didn't say. You planning on selling them?"

"Not yet. We'll wait to see if something 'happens'." They walked a bit further ignoring the curious stares then Reno stopped abruptly, " _Happens?_ Shit, they're talking about diseases and creepy-crawlies, aren't they? Are you gonna need somebody to check your 'nads' for boils and stuff?"

"NO!" Cloud yelled, his face flaming red, "I'm not... It's not for...You're... Fuck. Just forget it! You are _not_ getting into my pants!" The last sentence was almost panicked, but Reno just said, "Relax, kid. I don't need into your pants. I got better in my own."

The panicked look receded as the teasing moved to familiar ground—whose was bigger—so he decided to push it a little further. One, it would tell Strife that nothing had changed between them. Two, it would be good for the kid to remember how to have fun, he was already a solemn little fuck, and three, how the hell could he resist?

"Even if dangles popped my button, a little guy like you, I'd probably need a microscope. If I want to be impressed I can just look in the mirror any time and see bigger _and_ better." For a moment, he thought the blond would balk. _C'mon, you plucky little shit; talk back_.

Cloud responded to the challenge like he always did. He was shaky, but he did it. "Next time," Cloud took a nervous breath, "Next time, don't use a funhouse mirror. It's not good to have illusions about yourself."

Reno let the laughter die down a little before he leaned over to Cloud and whispered, "And it's not good to be too hard on yourself either." Cloud followed breathlessly in Reno's wake. _How had he known?_

It was funny; a couple of the others had looked horrified when Reno started his teasing, but it had steadied Cloud. He felt more balanced, in control and somehow _here_. Less likely to shatter and fall apart. Maybe he _could_ do this. Of course he could, he was stronger than he looked, always had been. He was a Strife, after all, Nibel mountain boy. A final breath and he was calm.

They reached the dorm hall and the group broke up knowing Cloud would be safe. Kingston was on duty this afternoon, and no one, in this dorm or any other, _ever_ messed with Kingston. The human mountain greeted them all with a nod. Reno he smiled at. It was actually an evilly, triumphant look.

Reno gave him a venomous look in return. The redhead had spent _hours_ going over every surface in their hall. He'd found and disabled four cameras in their hall. Yet, when he lit one up thinking he was safe, Kingston had appeared. He'd taken Reno's whole pack and, on top of _that_ , had made him do fifty push-ups right there in the hall, in front of everyone.

"Strife," he rumbled, "there's a note for you." He held out a plain, white envelope. It looked like the other plain, white envelopes he'd gotten from the General, but why would General Sephiroth be sending him an update when he'd just talked to Cloud less than an hour ago. Maybe it was bad news about his ma!

Cloud took it and quickly opened it. There was no note, no signature, just a colourful, homemade coupon. He knew who it was from though.

**_COUPON!_** __  
Entitles You To  
Cheap Pizza  & Bad Movies  
optional add-ins include  
A Sympathetic Ear, A Waterproof Shoulder  
and Gratuitous Cuddles  
 **Good Anytime**

It was Zack—no one else could have sent it. Cloud dissolved into tears once again, but this time he was smiling and chuckling the whole time.

* * *

  


Despite the trauma Cloud had experienced, cadet life continued. There were classes and homework. Sarge yelled and spat, and worked them into puddles of sweat and rubbery limbs. Reno continued to traumatize the chefs in the high-class food line.

Cubby thought Cloud should've been excused classes. That the young blond should be lying in bed recovering, but what would he do there, wallow? Reno just looked the C2, "Upper plate pussy," he muttered and, honestly, Cloud didn't _want_ to be excused. It kept his mind busy and every increase in ability, every new skill, helped rebuild his confidence.

He was more careful about sticking with the crowds, and the casual ass grabbing in the halls was more upsetting than it was before. Sometimes he'd have to duck out of the crowds and head for the nearest bathroom. Then he'd cry until his brain hurt and his lungs felt collapsed. He'd emerge from the stall and Reno would be there with a cup of water and a paper towel.

He'd never had any trouble sleeping. Now he'd occasionally lay there just listening to the soft sounds of his roommates. Cubby made an odd snuffling noise in his sleep, as if fluff had gotten up his nose. He laughed sometimes too, and Cloud wondered what he was dreaming. Reno didn't make any sounds except the rustle of sheets as he moved. Down the hall, a cadet named Tod snored loud enough to qualify as a psychological weapon. Someone stumbled down to the communal toilets, swearing when they stubbed their toe on the doorframe.

They were comforting sounds, normal sounds, and nothing at all like the harsh grunting and groaning that sometimes invaded his dreams. On those nights, staying awake was better.

He called his mother. She knew something was wrong and comforted him as best she could from another continent. She asked if he still thought it was worth it. He pictured his Ma in their cozy kitchen, wearing the shawl he'd bought for her.

Mr. Nettermann, the butcher, would be over later to help her roll her yarn, she said. He came over often. Mr. Nettermann liked her, treated her nice, and kept the other men away from her. He'd helped Cloud plan his trip to Midgar, being the only person in the village who'd ever lived anywhere else. He'd slipped him some extra gil and some food just before he left. His ma blushed like a little girl whenever Cloud talked about him and it was sweet. She deserved that.

Did he think it was worth it? That was an easy answer. Did he think he could go through with it? That was a different question all together.


	13. Keep Moving

* * *

Chit day came. Cloud needed new shampoo; the stuff he'd taken from the hotel had finally run out. He thought of asking Reno to get it for him but it felt like cheating, somehow. He'd have to face Descartes; He'd put it off twice since that first visit to Stores, not really needing anything and unable to face the man who'd raped and murdered—and who was supposed to rape _him_.

Unfortunately, it wasn't getting any easier by delaying it; in fact, it only served to build Descartes into this huge bogeyman. He didn't need that. He was already having enough trouble getting his nerve up to complete the mission since he…since the alcove; so he threw up, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and went out to face a human monster.

Military Stores was set up, well, like a store. There were aisles of items from which you could choose with prices in pretty labels on the shelves. The more expensive or 'liftable' items were kept behind the counter. It was like any small corner store.

Except this one had an A4 working the counter.

Working a cash register would normally be the job of a C4 or C3 but, as a military cadet, Descartes was assigned to it as part of his third year training. He couldn't have been happy.

Until a person turned 20, their class rank was based on their parents', usually a rank lower than their highest level parent, but once they turned 20, Shin-Ra considered them adults and their class rank was adjusted by how they'd performed as cadets. It was a lot easier to go down than it was to go up.

William Descartes, class A4 and now 19, was spending his last year as a cadet working a position that would get him reclassified _downwards_ once he graduated. He wasn't likely to go down to the C level, but mid-Bs was possible. His parents couldn't be happy. It would make him a lot less untouchable. _He_ couldn't be happy. Perhaps Shin-Ra was training him to work in Requisition and Supply after, or maybe they didn't know what to do with him. Maybe Descartes thought his parents would arrange a nice future for him – that's what his smug look said. Or maybe, and this was Reno's theory, Descartes had asked for the position and was busy robbing Shin-Ra blind and selling the stuff on the black-market.

Reno went with him. He always went with anybody who was heading over to Stores. He never made a scene, never drew attention to himself in any way, and he'd walk out the place with about five times the stuff that he'd actually paid for. If Descartes wasn't making money on the black-market, then Reno certainly was.

He ambled down the aisle with Cloud, giving his opinion on the various grooming products on offer. He was actually very picky about what he used on his hair and he had, he claimed, tried them all. Cloud took his second choice of shampoo and conditioner up to the counter. Reno had put his first choice back on the shelf and given him these instead.

William Descartes was at the till, sneering at the cadets in line, making nasty comments on their purchases, their looks; whatever took his fancy really. Cloud's mouth went dry. He might have panicked and backed out except Reno picked up one of the cheesy SOLDIER magazines, which were more marketing than news.

"Look at these dudes, Cloud. Don't they look all posed and manly?" On the cover was a picture of General Sephiroth (who else?) with SOLDIERs First Class Genesis Rhapsodos and Angeal Hewley.

"Umm," Cloud responded. What kind of question was that?

"Well, the dark haired guy looks manly. Sephiroth just looks scary, and the red haired guy looks like he'd fuck anybody given a half a chance. Do you think they're all gay? I've heard SOLDIERs are into guys," Reno listened to what he said and burst out snickering. Even Cloud had to smile a little. If the redhead had done it as a distraction, it had worked; they'd nearly reached the counter.

Descartes was watching Reno and didn't bother to hide his scorn for the cadet who was so obviously from under-the-plate. It wasn't that he thought the redhead was a cockroach, he thought Reno couldn't reach high enough to _be_ a cockroach; and the blond beside him couldn't much better if he was hanging around with roaches.

"Seriously though, you gonna try out for SOLDIER?" Reno didn't even look at the derisive corporal, which turned his sneer a little uglier.

"Are you going to buy that magazine?" There were large signs prohibiting reading without purchasing.

"Fuck, no." Reno tossed it back into the nearest slot, not even phased by the contemptuous tone. "I think I'd make a great SOLDIER. It'd be fun smiting people."

Descartes smirked, "The only chance you have of getting into SOLDIER is if one of those faggots lets you give it to them up the ass."

Reno sneered right back, "At least I'd be giving it. An asshole like you was born to take it."

"Reno," Cloud's soft voice warned his roommate to not make a scene. The redhead could get suspended for assaulting an undergrad, especially an A4, even if he didn't start it.

"Alright," he sighed, "but you're no fun, shrimp. So, joining SOLDIER," Now he was back to ignoring Descartes as if he didn't exist. Cloud could see the undergrad's temper starting to flare. "Sarge seems to think that you'd be good at it: 'At least _yew_ know which end of a _sword_ to hold and which to _stick_ the other guy's GUTS, MISSter Strife.' Gotta love the imagery, yo

Descartes looked up, toning down his habitual sneer, "You're Cloud Strife?" he asked. Cloud nodded. "I've heard about you. I heard you killed a couple Bs a couple weeks back."

"Just one," Cloud responded, voice low. He put his bottles on the counter.

"I also hear that you're the best shot in your class. The commander of the Quick Response Team is looking at you."

"Woah," Reno murmured. The QRT guys were cool. Not as cool as the Turks but still, Reno could get into that sneaking and sniping stuff.

The corporal looked at Cloud's purchases, turning up his nose at them before scanning them in. "Then there was that secretary you defended a while ago. They still talk about that in the typing pool."

Cloud's cheeks were bright with colour, "It was just an impulse. I wasn't thinking."

Descartes smiled. It wasn't very nice. "I'm sure you weren't," he mocked, "D3s aren't known for their brains. In fact, D3s shouldn't be known at all. They should live their little lives, do what they're told, then die quietly, completely forgotten. That's just the way the world is, don't you agree, Cadet?"

He was staring at Cloud; daring him to object, ridiculing him for being a D3 and helpless. All of a sudden he heard that purring voice, 'hello, pretty kitty', and he lost his breath. He was back there, helpless and afraid.

Reno saved him. Reno _always_ saved him. "If you were actually smart you wouldn't be working the counter in Military Stores."

"Shut your mouth, pathetic sewer rat," Descartes snapped.

"Don't talk to him like that," Suddenly, Cloud was angry, beyond angry; he was incandescent with it. Reno had been nothing but kind to him and to Cubby. He was rough and ruthless but he was the closest the small town boy had _ever_ come to having a friend. It was one thing for the undergrad to insult him, he could take it, he was used to being looked down on, but he couldn't stand here and let the same thing happen to Reno. "You have no idea, with your spoiled, easy life. He's worth _ten_ of you!"

Reno grinned, "Go, Cloud!" The blond didn't even hear the soft cheering that greeted his speech. The two freshmen weren't the only ones to have suffered under Descartes vicious tongue.

"Just do your _little_ job and ring up my stuff. I want to get out of here. It _smells._ " Cloud was quivering with anger. It was the same urge that had made him rescue Darla, and hadn't allowed him to back out of his deal with General Sephiroth. The same urge had made him leave Nibelheim in the first place. He was a born protector, a hero - even if he couldn't see it.

Descartes was also white-lipped in anger. How _dare_ the insignificant _thing_ talk to him like that? _Nobody_ talked to him like that. He _had_ meant to linger over the hunt until the _end_ of the term at least; it was more _fun_ when it was drawn out, but that little D3 _bastard's_ complete _disrespect_ had just bumped him up in importance. Which was also just _wrong_.

The insolent little _shit_ would get his, oh yes he would. He'd be getting it _very_ soon.

* * *

  


"Can't believe I did that," it was all Cloud could say. Not only had he talked back to an _A4_ , but he'd also insulted him and ordered him around. And not just any A4, oh no, he had to do it to the one known for being a rapist and a murderer.

"I think you pissed him off," Reno replied, eyes watchful through the smoke from his cigarette.

"That was incredibly stupid. I can't believe I did that."

Reno rolled his eyes. The kid makes one rude remark and turns into a pile of jello. Still, it took guts and he had been defending the redhead's honour, or whatever. That gave him a bit of slack. Time to get his mind off of it.

"So, what do you think about the whole SOLDIER thing. You never did say whether you were going to try out for it, yo." He hadn't met a country boy yet, that didn't want to get into SOLDIER and be like the 'Great General Sephiroth'.

"Can't."

"Sure you can. You get one of the combat instructors to recommend you." For Reno life was simple, if you weren't getting what you wanted, then go out and fucking get it. This waiting for the gods or fate or whatever to hand it to you was for chicken shits. The worst that could happen is that you'd die and, in the slums, that wasn't always the worst thing.

"It's too soon. They don't do that until third year."

"You do want to be a SOLDIER. I knew it. It's all that romantic shit about using a sword isn't it." He sure wouldn't be one of those mutated fuckers. They had to fight _in front_ —just asking to get killed as far as he was concerned.

Cloud blushed; using a sword _was_ part of it; there was something almost magical about the way a good swordsman moved. He told himself he wasn't thinking of Zack Fair and banished the image of him that popped into his head. Even before he'd met Zack, he'd wanted to be a SOLDIER. Nobody messed with them, nobody bullied them, they could even refuse direct orders, or so he'd heard.

"I can't. My ma needs me back home."

"Shit, Cloud! It ain't your _mama's_ life you're living. It's yours." Not having a good relationship with the woman who'd squeezed him out—in fact, he'd be happy never to see her pimping ass again—Reno had a hard time understanding his roommate's fondness for his parental unit. Cubby had two, and he like both of them. Weird.

Cloud closed his eyes against the dream. "Civil Guard's good enough."

"Yeah well. You got two years to come to your senses, yo," Reno said in disgust. "Maybe your _ma_ will find herself a sugar legs and she won't need you looking out for her no more."

"Have to survive the next couple months first, Reno. Descartes," he paused, swallowed, _don't think of it_ , "He'll hurt me bad, now."

Ok, there was that Reno had to acknowledge. Descartes had definitely been ready to kill the little guy.

If he had to bet, the former street rat would be putting money on the A4 attacking sometime in the next week, two at the most. Descartes wouldn't forgive the attack by someone he barely considered human. Especially when there'd been an audience and some of them had applauded the D3.

"Not if I can stop him he won't," he vowed.

* * *

  


"The problem with high alert is that it can't be sustained indefinitely. It has to be constantly reinforced with new threats and reminders. If you don't constantly feel yourself to be in danger, the hyperawareness and alertness that you had at the beginning of the alarm fades and you become complacent. This is the moment to attack."

The Tactics instructor hit his desk with a ruler. It sounded like a gunshot and made everyone jump.

"I want a 3-page essay that details an instance where this tactic was tried. I want you to answer the questions: Was its use successful, why or why not? Could the attack have been done differently, why or why not? What other strategies could have been used, _at the time_? How would you attack the same target given today's weapons and equipment? I want it typed, double-spaced and _by next class_."

There was a collective groan as the bell rang. The next Tactics class was in just two days. Everyone filed out of class, complaining about interrupted plans to see movies, girls or friends. Cloud didn't complain. The instructor's lecture had reminded him that, in an odd way, _he_ was under siege.

They'd been so _sure_ that Descartes would attack soon, but it had been nearly two weeks. He'd stopped poking his head around corners or into room to see if the corporal was lurking. He would occasionally walk across the compound, not alone, but just one of the crowd. None of whom would protect him if Descartes attacked, but still. He couldn't always ask Reno to go with him everywhere. It had stopped being a necessity and just made him feel childish and weak.

It wasn't as if he thought the threat was gone, either. He was just… tired.

There was a part of him that yearned to run away, to say 'no', to go to the General and get out of the deal. Another part of him just wanted it over, and if taking a couple small risks helped it along, was that a bad thing? The two opposite urges tore at him, every time he looked down an empty hall, every time he went in the locker room, and every time he walked near that alcove just off the dorms where…

Yet Reno never relaxed his guard, never stopped searching the shadows. Perhaps that's why he let down his guard so often; he knew Reno had his back. When he thought of it, his head hurt, his chest tightened and his stomach roiled, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. 'Screw it,' he decided, maybe he'd write the stupid paper on _his_ situation.

He and Cubby decided to go to the library and do their research right away. It was considered a safe place because there were always at least two staff members on duty and, although they didn't go around shushing everyone all the time, they never let anything get out of hand. They'd been known use electro-magnetic rods on misbehaving cadets, because the pulse subdued the human but didn't damage the materials. Reno had been fascinated with the simple looking weapons, but that was as far as he ever got in exploring the library.

They were joined by a couple others from their year, working on their own projects. They didn't know each other well but groups were always safer. It was a quiet bunch, hard-working and soothing, and just what Cloud had wanted. Then the far end of their table was taken over by a gang of undergrads, of which only a couple were actually studying, the rest were there to socialize and show off.

"So I told the bitch, it was over. Like I needed to listen to her shit all the time—" "Merton swears it was so big he couldn't get his hand around it, but he's a lying slut—" "I was so drunk, I puked then passed out. It was great!" "Instructor Smalls is a dick, man."

They were so loud it was hard to think. One of their friends, who was actually trying to work, finally said, "Gentlemen, I am trying to finish my paper on aerodynamics which is not an easy subject. You are disturbing me and you are disturbing others at the table." The speaker waved a hand down at the freshmen, who sat frozen at being noticed.

One of the undergrads sneered at them, "Who gives a shit about _freshmen?_ Really, Freddy." For some reason, he looked familiar to Cloud but he couldn't place him. Freshmen didn't often run into undergrads.

" _I_ care, Janzen, because I care about how I conduct myself. Who was it who said you can judge a person's true worth by how he treats those who can bring him no benefit?

"Not my father, that's for sure," he gave a put upon sigh, "If you'd just listen to me, you'd be done by now. My father knows all about this stuff."

"The thrust-to-weight formula doesn't work. It's something else for prop planes but I can't remember it."

"Of course it works. You're just applying it wrong." Now he was sneering at his friend. "There's an adjustment to be made for lift-off. Find it, figure it out, then we can get the fuck out of here."

"Excuse me," Cloud was opening his mouth, coming to the rescue again. He shouldn't, but Freddy had actually tried to be nice, "I think you want lift coefficient for propellers. The thrust-to-weight formula is for rockets and jets." He hadn't spent hours overhearing Cubby and Reno for nothing.

"That's it!" He quickly looked it up in his textbook. Freddy narrowed his eyes, staring off into the distance as he processed the equation. "That works perfectly. And to think, Janzen, a lowly freshman knows more than you. What's your name, cadet?" He held out his hand.

The young blond swallowed and stretched over to take it, "Cloud, Cloud Strife."

"Thanks, Cloud." Then he turned back to his group of fellow undergrads. "I guess you don't know what your _father_ knows, Janzen."

Most of the undergrads had ignored the exchange, too busy gossiping, but Janzen looked straight at Cloud, "I know who you are, little kitten." He purred the words, just as Ass Grabber and Back-up Boy had done when they...

This guy had been a friend of theirs, and Cloud remembered where he'd seen the undergrad before. His picture was one of the ones Tseng had shown him in the hotel room. He was that friend of Descartes, his best friend, also a class A4. He was involved in all the attacks. Janzen Carrew, that was his name.

He couldn't look away. He couldn't breathe. He needed to get out of here.

Thankfully, Cubby distracted him, "I can't believe you remembered that. I didn't even think you were listening." His roommate punched him on the shoulder, happy and proud that Cloud had remembered. It broke the spell Carrew had created with his words.

He turned away, hoping everyone would think his colour was from embarrassment rather than fear, "Couldn't help but learn it, considering how often you two discussed it." Cubby smiled at the gentle teasing, he knew he was a nerd when it came to that stuff but he didn't care.

With relief, Cloud buried himself back in the assignment, one of a crowd, safe—for now. He knew that before he left the library tonight, he would be making a call. There was no way he was walking across the compound without some official backup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two sources to share:
> 
> The quote used by Freddy is Dr. Samuel Johnson _"The true measure of a man is how he treats someone who can do him absolutely no good."_ Very apt in this Shin-Ra.
> 
> The second source is LoLoChan, who reviewed faithfully but never signed in so that I could respond personally. She's the reason why Cloud knows that weight-to-thrust ratios apply to rockets and jet engines, not to propeller driven aircraft.


	14. Beginning of the End

* * *

"Strife, there's a call for you," Kingston's words stopped Cloud from going to the stairs.

It was the end of another stressful day and all he wanted to do was stretch out on his bunk and relax. The two weeks predicted by Reno had come and gone but the encounter with Carrew had put the young cadet back on full alert. Between that and the regular class work and the physical training, he was feeling paper thin and fragile.

He redirected his steps to the downstairs common room. There were a few freshmen in it, playing games or making food, but it wasn't too loud. He picked up the receiver, "Strife here." The operator's impersonal voice told him to wait, please and Cloud knew the caller was his mother.

His mother _never_ called him. He always called her. His stress level shot up. Maybe something had happened; there was some unforeseen side effect from the procedure; they hadn't got all the cancer.

"Stop panicking, my little Rain Cloud, it's nothing bad." Trust his ma to know what he was thinking.

"Hey, Ma. I'm allowed to panic a little, you never call."

She chuckled, "Never had good news before, hey."

"Good news. What kind of good news?"

"Leo wants to make our relationship formal."

Cloud frowned. Who was Leo? "Mr. Nettlemann?" he guessed.

"Who else, hey," He could hear it now, the bubbling happiness in his mother's voice. She wanted this. Her and the butcher had been together exclusively for three years, ever since he'd moved to Nibelheim. It was almost a formal relationship already.

"What happened, I mean, why now? Why not last winter?" Last winter had been bad, long and cold. Mr. Nettlemann had helped Cloud cut and carry wood for the fire. His ma had knit the butcher a sweater covered in farm animals running from a knife-wielding figure that looked a lot like him. His mother had a weird sense of humour.

"Got scared when I went for treatment. They wouldn't tell him what was going on 'cause he wasn't registered as my spouse."

He'd been kept in the dark—that was why he was asking his ma to get married? The surge of rage caught him by surprise. If the butcher really cared for his ma, why hadn't he asked her a year ago, or even six months ago? If they'd have been married then _her husband_ could've arranged for medical treatment; as a merchant he was a high enough class. Cloud wouldn't have had to join ShinRa. He wouldn't have had to agree to this mission, he wouldn't have been attacked; he wouldn't have been _raped!_ Was it all for nothing? Even as he had the thought, he felt small and petty.

"Cloud?" his mother's voice was tentative. She sensed that something was wrong, but what could he say? He had no right to tell her not to marry _Leo_. He leaned his head against the cool wall.

"It's nothing, Ma. Foolishness."

"Hnn," she murmured. She was quiet for a bit. Cloud's throat was hurting so he didn't speak either. "Scary things, changes."

He sighed, "Yeah." Too many changes. Too much happening.

"You going away was a big change. Changed me, changed you. Can't go back, neh."

_Shit_ , he was crying, that's why his throat was tight. "Want to."

"I know, my sweet Dream Cloud, but there's a big chance for you there in Midgar. Gotta grab it and hold on to it."

"But, you..."

She interrupted, "I'll be okay. When you come back to visit, I'll be here. I'll be here thanks to you, yah."

"Mr. Nettlemann..." He didn't know how to ask it; didn't actually know what he wanted to ask or to say.

"He'll treat me good or my SOLDIER son will kick his ass, yah?"

His breath caught, "I'm not… that's not… "

"It's in your eyes, my Storm Cloud, it always has been. Your life is going to be far away from here. Make it the best one you can, the one you really want, hey."

She'd known. She'd always known. "Okay." Why had he even bothered trying to lie to her? He chuckled, a stiff, half-choked noise, "Be happy, Ma."

"You too, sweet Cloud." He hung up the receiver before he said anything more.

What could he say? That this wasn't a good thing? It was. That it made everything he'd gone through meaningless. It didn't, not really. That he wanted things back to what they'd been a year ago? A year ago he'd been a worthless, little D3, ignored or bullied in turn; everybody's slave and nobody's friend. Here, now, he had a chance. He was Cadet Cloud Strife, good in Language and Weapons. People knew him—people _liked_ him. He had friends. There was Reno and maybe after... after there'd be Zack.

These were good things. He trudged upstairs to his room.

He still wanted to punch something.

If Reno were in the room when he got there, he'd ask the redhead to come spar with him. That way he'd be able to work off some of this anger yet still be safe.

Reno wasn't in the room. There was just Cubby sitting at the desk working on something. The blond shifted from foot to foot in agitation. "Hey, Cubby?" his roommate didn't even look up, "would you like to spar with me?"

That made the C2 focus on the young cadet, a look of mild horror on his face, "Spar? Now?"

"Yah, just a little workout." All he really needed was someone to hold the pads, watch his back.

Cubby shook his head, "Not a chance. I get enough of that stuff during PT. Sorry, Cloud."

"No problem." Big problem. He felt like he was going to explode! What was wrong with him? He hugged himself, but it didn't help. "If I go to the gym would you tell Reno where I am?

"Yeah, okay," Cubby's attention was back into his manual. So Cloud asked him again, he really didn't want to be left alone in the gym, and got an absent, 'yeah, yeah, I promise' in return.

"You promise what?" the blond prodded.

"I dunno, what I said." Cubby frowned over his book and scribbled out some formula. It was no good. Cubby wouldn't remember. He couldn't go to the gym if he didn't have backup arranged. Reno'd been very emphatic about that, too long a distance, too many hallways and empty rooms, so it was too dangerous.

He threw himself down on his bunk. He tried to blank his mind, to push everything out of it but it he couldn't. He saw his ma, wearing his shawl being kissed by _Le-o._ They didn't know what he'd sacrificed so that _they_ could be happy. 'Of course they didn't know, you ass,' he told himself, 'because you never told them and you never will.'

He shifted onto his side. Breathe in for ten seconds. Breathe out for ten seconds. Breathe in… Was _Le-o_ staying with his ma right now? Did he kiss her? Did _she_ kiss _him_? Did they do more than kiss? Did they do something like what he'd done with Zack? She was his _mother!_

Onto his back, once more. His ma's a grown woman, but she's not _old._ Lots of people thought she was attractive. They complimented him on his looks by saying how much he resembled her. She'd been only seventeen when he'd been born so she'd be… shit, only thirty-one. The butcher was in his mid-thirties. They made a good couple. He was a selfish, immature, bastard to not want her to be happy.

Onto his side. 'Fucking breathe in, Strife.' He tried again but had no better luck this time. He couldn't stay here. He…

"Cloud. _Cloud!_ " He got the impression that Cubby'd been calling his name for some time.

"Yah?"

"You're driving me nuts! I promise, I solemnly swear, I will tell Reno where you've gone. Now, would you go already?"

It still wasn't optimum, but he'd wind up hitting his roommate if he didn't get out of here. Or Cubby would beat him with his textbook—it could happen. If he hadn't been so agitated, he would have smiled at the image.

"I'll be in the Lower Gym in Hall B, okay?" The gyms in Hall B were the busiest in the compound. It was also one of the places Tseng had installed cameras. There was usually at least one instructor in attendance to hand out practice weapons and to deal with any injuries that might occur. It _should_ be safe.

Once in the dorm halls he decided to be safer. He'd call Reno on his PHS. Tseng may have said only use it in emergencies but this _was_ an emergency, but when he tried to call it rang and rang and finally kicked into voice mail. He left a short message; he'd gone to the Lower Gym in Hall B, he'd be there for about an hour, maybe more. He'd like company. He even tried Hansin. Again, he got bumped into voice mail. He left the same message not really expecting Hansin to meet him, but he'd done his best. He headed over to Hall B at a jog, anxious to start beating on something.

* * *

  


The gyms were just as busy as he thought they'd be. There were even a couple cadets from his year using the weights. They invited him over and he thought of joining them, but he wanted to do something a bit more... destructive.

He stretched out. Considering the mood he was in, he could probably hurt himself pretty badly if he wasn't careful, so he focussed on every movement, the feel of the muscle, his lungs expanding and contracting, the beat of his heart. It helped a little. When he felt more in control, he went over to the hand-to-hand training area. It was somewhat emptier in this corner of the gym but there were two other cadets working with the punch boards so it was okay.

He'd start with the heavy bags, he decided. He wasn't a great hand-to-hand fighter, he much preferred having something in his hands, but it would require him to focus on how he was moving, how he was hitting, and he could make every punch count, which was just what he needed. Medium bag for warm up, then the light bag for a couple speed rounds, then the heavy bag for some power punches—he put a couple extra in there—then back to the first bag to start the circuit again.

It was good. The sound of his fist hitting the leather. The way it bounced when he impacted. The _'zing'_ of feedback up his arm. It was perfect. He didn't let himself get completely lost in the workout though; he kept an ear on the gym, looking around occasionally to make sure there was still a large enough crowd to give him protection.

At least he did until he moved to a practice sword. Not only did he prefer the sword but it brought back memories of his week with Zack; how they'd laughed and played... and the other stuff they'd done. What he'd experienced with Zack was so different to what had happened later. _They_ had touched to cause pain. Zack's touch had caused pleasure and happiness, and bone wrenching ecstasy. And if he kept thinking about what Zack had done he was going to find himself doing his katas with a boner.

The coupon he'd sent sort of made Cloud think that he'd be seeing the dark-haired First again: for bad movies and cheap pizza and cuddles. He smiled at the thought. A year and a month until he was legal. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his hands to himself for that long, not even with thoughts of naked Heideggar to offset Zack's appeal.

The gym had become a lot quieter, he noticed. He spun around, wooden sword raised defensively. Bearing down on him, like stalking beasts spreading out to encircle and isolate their prey, were seven undergrads and seniors. _Seven!_ Descartes and Carrew were there, standing in the middle, looking so proud of themselves. They probably thought they were leaders of men when they were really just sick assholes leading a group of twisted, sycophantic weasels.

He swallowed in fear. His hearing had become acute; he could almost hear the anxious shuffle of feet as people vacated the gym. A few stayed to watch the show, looking forward to being lightly horrified perhaps, because they couldn't understand what Descartes meant to do. They probably thought Cloud would get pushed around a little, maybe beat up some, but they couldn't actually _want_ to see someone get raped and killed in front of them, could they?

"Well, well, well. Look who's practicing so hard, just like a good little cadet," Descartes smiled in triumph.

Cloud made short examinations of the room, looking for an instructor, or even another undergrad that would come to break this up. Nobody moved closer. A couple, quite deliberately, turned away. He reached one hand into his pocket and fumbled for the panic button, praying desperately that it worked better now that Reno was monitoring it.

There were the two guys from the steps of the infirmary; Ass Grabber and Back-up Boy's friends. They still looked like they wanted to kill the freshman cadet.

ShitShitShitShit

Now that it was here, he didn't want to do this. He _really_ didn't want to do this. He couldn't. How could he stop them? Make them think this was a really _bad_ idea?

"I'm only fourteen," he announced.

The corporal just laughed. "Yeah, right. You expect us to believe that?"

"I swear to Odin, or Shiva or Leviathan, on anything you like, I'm only fourteen. I turn fifteen in month. You don't want to do this, Descartes. If you do what I think you're going to do, you're guilty of child molestation," he shifted his gaze to include all seven—fucking _seven—_ of his attackers, "You'll all be guilty."

A couple of them glanced around uneasily. The idea of being charged with child abuse made them hesitate, but only for a moment. Descartes gathered them all back up, "Bullshit! If you were that young, Shin-Ra would've kicked you out long before now. No way you could've gotten through Recruitment."

At this point Cloud supposed he should give in, let them grab him, strip him, penetrate him. It would all be captured on tape. Reno would come in and rescue him and it would all be over. Case closed. He felt sick at the thought. He couldn't, he just _couldn't_!

_ShitShitShitShit_ It kept repeating in his head.

He retreated until his back was protected. They couldn't sneak behind him, at least until he had to move to counter their attack. Or maybe… rather than wait for them to attack, Cloud decided to try and cut his way out. If he could take out the guy to his immediate right, he could run through the mob and maybe reach the real weapons. Except that running might be a really stupid idea. Predators who hunt in packs like to run down their prey, he'd learnt that in the Nibel Mountains watching the wolves take down deer.

Still, it wouldn't be wrong to even the odds a little. He used the momentum of his jump toward his attacker to add speed and strength to his swing. It was an underhand swing, and unexpected. He didn't aim for the head; instead he went for the knee and landed it with a satisfying _crack!_ A scream of pain, and the teen fell clutching his knee and rocking in agony.

It had begun.


	15. It's Finally Over

* * *

"You upstart _bastard_!" Descartes growled.

Not much time left.

Cloud spun, again using the momentum gathered by the move to force the wooden sword out in a whiplash effect. This time it landed on the boy's breastbone. He'd been aiming at the diaphragm, which would've been a kill shot. Hitting the ribcage wouldn't take him down right away like the knee shot had done on the other boy. Cloud lost vital seconds by reorienting and swinging down on the undergrad's exposed neck.

Vaguely he could hear noise from the watchers, as they cheered, made bets, and generally acted like it were a sporting event rather than an assault. His vague hope, that one of them would come and even out the odds a little, died at the sound. By the time he'd finished that swing his advantage was gone and it was still five to one.

One of the gang, a big, bruiser with deep-set eyes, grabbed the wooden weapon and froze it in place. Then he drew back his arm and backhanded Cloud as hard as he could. The little cadet had already let go of the weapon. As much as it would be nice to have, by trying to keep it, he'd only put himself within swinging distance. So he ducked, and tried to kick the bruiser's knees out. The angle was bad, so he kicked up, into the groin. That worked, and Bruiser clutched himself. It was too late. They were on him and he was on the ground.

"Stop fighting, you pathetic bug, just take what's coming to you." It was Descartes saying it, but all the other young men gathered around believed it too."

The whole time he was yelling, "I'm only fourteen, I'm only fourteen!" Maybe one of the gang slunk away, he didn't notice. He just kept yelling it and tried to keep moving. If he kept moving then they couldn't… He might be able to get away. Except that, if he escaped now, he'd just have to go through this again. He didn't care. He couldn't do this.

_ShitShitShitShit_

"I heard that creatures below the C-level don't have feelings, or brains."

"It's why they make such good little whores."

"It's better when they're young and tight."

He ignored what they were saying. He didn't care. He had to stop them from grabbing him. He rolled as they kicked him, arms down over his ribs to try and minimize the damage. They had regulation boots on, he just had thin cloth; it hurt. He reversed his roll and caught a couple of them, knocking them down like bowling pins.

He tried to scramble to his feet. He was too slow. He would have done better to stay on the ground and roll farther away. It was too late to wish it different. Hands reached out and grabbed his shirt, his hair, his legs and arms. It was like being attacked by Deathclaws.

"I want to make you _hurt,_ " the A4 growled in his ear, "I want to hear you _scream._ "

_Nononononono  
_  
They didn't pick him up and strip him, like he thought they would. They picked him up and heaved him into the free weights. Cloud hit hard, and heard a _crack!_ It was probably a rib. It hurt. He couldn't afford to be hurt.

There was groan from the crowd—bets lost or presumed lost—speculation was rampant and all their attention was on the battle on the far side of the gym. It explained why, despite the hair, none of them noticed when a new guy entered the crowd. He didn't join in the betting. He just clenched his fists and waiting for the signal to move in, weight on his toes, ready to move.

The little cadet regained his feet and started throwing the weights and bells. Whatever was within reach he threw it. He vaguely aimed for hips, groins, chests; all the large target areas just as they'd been taught. Sarge would be proud. He did some damage; Carrew was limping. It wasn't enough. There were too many, and he wasn't hurting them just pissing them off. They were too close.

"You don't even deserve to live, you fucking bug. I'm going to squash you," Descartes kept up his commentary. The longer Cloud fought the more violent, and terminal, his threats became. It was less about lessons and more about death. Cloud looked around the room in a panic, but he couldn't see his back up anywhere. _Where the hell was Reno?_

Reno was watching, worrying; gripping and regripping the weapon he'd borrowed from the library. He'd made a few modifications to it. If Tseng hadn't strictly forbidden him to kill the perverted assholes, he'd be testing it all full strength. It would still pack a wallop, though; permanent damage, maybe, rather than death. All he needed was the word from the guy on the camera and then he'd see what his 'rod' could do. If only the little guy would stop fighting so hard…

They were too close. Cloud was running out of things to throw. He grabbed up one of the metal poles and spun with it, creating a circle of steel around his body. He couldn't keep it up for long; he'd get dizzy and fall. Falling would make him vulnerable so, with a scream of rage and terror, he stepped into his attackers and let it land.

Descartes derisive litany had had an effect... on his gang. They believed that Cloud was weak and stupid, and would collapse into a quivering puddle soon faced by all these godly higher classes. Or maybe they'd gotten away with it for so long they believed they were invincible. The senior cadet Cloud swung didn't even bother ducking; a swing from a D3 hurt _him_? He would've laughed.

"Bet you're really hot and tight after this. I'm gonna love the feel—"

The pole landed across his neck with a crunch. The teen started gasping and clutched his throat. Cloud had never seen it before but he knew he'd killed his first man. The young cadet was putting up a good fight, but he was alone against five older, bigger men; four now although Broken Kneecap was up, staying at the back and wanting to be part of their revenge.

By making that last swing, he'd put his back to Bruiser. Large hands, thick arms, reached around and clamped down on his damaged rib and around his neck. He only had one hand free. He tried reaching eyes, nostrils or even a mouth. He needed something he could rip that would cause Bruiser pain enough to drop him or at least loosen his hold. He kicked, hard, trying to prevent the others from getting a grip on his legs. Grunts of pain.

"Shit, he squirms like a fish!"

"Fucking _grab_ him, you pussies!"

"Choke him a little. That ought to tame him."

As instructed, Bruiser tightened his arm. Cloud was already breathing too fast from panic, the arm around his neck just made it worse. It was going grey at the edges. He could feel himself getting weaker, slower—vulnerable.

"Put him on the bench." The room dipped and swirled. The world was spinning. No, they'd finally caught his legs and were holding them parallel to the floor.

"Get the little shit's pants off." The voice echoed oddly, loud but distant. They had him. It was too late.

_NoNoNoNoNoNo!_

"Here?"

"Yes, 'here'. Don't worry about the crowd, they won't do anything but watch."

"Fucking-A. I say go for it!"

The arm around his neck let up long enough for him to pull in a much needed breath. It wasn't enough for him to get his strength back. It was only enough for him to realize fully that he was pinned, and helpless, and half-naked in front of five angry brutal rapists.

"Aww, look it the little guy, crying for his mama, I bet."

"I guess he is fourteen after all." The speaker laughed. They had his pants down by his knees. He was exposed, vulnerable. He couldn't think anymore, he couldn't plan or reason. Sheer, blind panic ruled him.

"Hold him down, you useless fucks. If he gets away you won't get your turn."

_No!No!No!No!No!_

"Cry baby," they mocked. He didn't care, he didn't care about any of it! He wanted them off!

"Get off! Get off of me! Get off!" He managed to yell. Not that it did any good.

"Not until you learn your place, little ant. Squish, squish." Descartes was working his zipper down; Cloud could hear the distinctive sound. He started struggling harder. He couldn't do this. He couldn't!

"Do it! Do it! Do it!" Cloud couldn't tell who was speaking. He didn't care.

_NONONONONONO!_

They bent his legs up so that his knees nearly touched his nose. His damaged ribs burned and throbbed. Bruiser had cut off his airway again. If he squeezed any harder, Cloud might pass out. That would be good. That would be better than this. _Anything_ would be better than this!

Then he felt it: penetration, pain.

_NO!NO!NO!NO!NO! "NOO!"_

"Shut the little faggot up!"

He was stretching, ripping, bleeding.

"No don't. I like them screaming."

"Do it! Do it! Do it!"

Pain.

"What the fuck?" The words weren't aimed at him. He didn't care. The weight was off him. He tried to roll off the bench and was surprised when he fell to the ground. There was movement around him, rapid movement. New voices shouting. He crawled under the bench, hiding, getting away.

"Sick, motherfucking assholes!"

Cloud flinched even though the anger wasn't directed at him. His pants, he could pull up his pants, and run for the door. He could, he could do that. Pants first, he needed to pull up his pants. It hurt. He ignored it.

A person fell close to him, face towards him. It was Bruiser, although his face was all twisted up. He'd found him. He was going to pull him out. "NO!" he yelled and kicked out heel first, just like he'd been taught. He heard a satisfying _crunch!_ but he didn't wait to see if the senior cadet was going to reach for him. He scrambled backwards out from under the bench, away from its scant protection.

"Upper-plate pansy-assed bitch. Try _my_ rod."

Cloud kept moving, he couldn't see for the tears. He needed to get his back to the wall. He needed a solid surface around him so he'd be safer. He put his hand out and it slid on something hard. There was a hand grabbing at his ankle. He risked a quick look. Descartes, it was _Descartes_! He wouldn't let himself be taken by him again.

_NoNoNoNoNoNo_

He picked up the thing he'd put his hands on. It was heavy. It was heavy enough to smash down on Descartes' wrist, to crush bone and ruin tendons. It broke his grip a little so Cloud swung it again. The A4 screeched in pain. "I'll _break you!_ " the corporal shouted and moved closer, "I'll break you even if they kill me for it!"

Cloud swung the thing, a free weight, he realized, a big one. He could hardly feel the weight of it. He didn't care. He wouldn't let Descartes touch him. It hit him in the face. That was good. He swung it again to keep him away. Maybe it hit an elbow that time, he wasn't sure, but the A4 dropped to the floor. The cadet took advantage and brought the weight down on his head. Descartes groaned and twitched. Cloud wanted his attacker to stop moving, so he swung it again. He had to make sure the A4 would stay still; he _had_ to. One more hit, just one, once more.

A gentle hand on his arm. Bright, warm eyes; weird black hair. "Hey, hey, Spike." He knew that voice, those eyes. "I think you killed him lots already, okay?"

Cloud blinked, eyes large and lost, staring at the apparition in front of him.

"Holy shit, kid. His head's flat!" Nasal voice, lazy tone. Reno. "Good job!" If Reno was here, and he wasn't just dreaming then maybe, maybe Zack was here too.

"Zack?"

"I'm here, Spike. Reno called me in." The cadet switched his gaze to his roommate.

His roommate who always came prepared. He held out a napkin for Cloud to use on his face. Cloud just blinked at it, so Zack wound up taking it and cleaning up the blond's tear-stained and blood ridden face. "You called Zack?"

"Yeah. I'm good, yo, but I knew that Pancake Head there was gathering his full crew. Too many for me to take on." He dug through his pockets, pulling out one of the potions that the doctor had given Cloud at the infirmary. He handed it over to the SOLDIER. "I figured since Fair here, had made up that goofy coupon that he kinda liked you. SOLDIER Second Class ain't nothing to sneeze at if you need back up."

"We cleared it with Tseng and the General, and here we are." Zack tipped the potion to Cloud's lips, encouraging him to drink it. "We would have rescued you sooner, Spike, but you put up a hell of a fight."

"I couldn't go through with it," he hesitated, "I couldn't. Not again. Did I wreck it?" Tears were still running down his cheeks. He sniffed; an awful, gurgley kind of sniff that didn't stop the snot from running out. Before he could wipe his nose on his hand, or anything else, Reno presented Zack with another napkin, and Zack did the honours, "Blow."

"Nah. You were great, shrimp. Yelling your real age at them was a great idea. No way they can say they didn't know."

He turned his big, tear soaked eyes on his roommate. "I just wanted them to stop. I wasn't thinking of the mission. I hoped," a gulping breath, "I hoped that maybe they wouldn't, wouldn't if I told them. But they didn't believe me."

"It was still a good idea. You think fast on your feet, yo!"

"You did good, Spike. You were fucking awesome, considered you were unarmed, outnumbered and probably scared down to your toes."

"I killed one," and he'd be higher class than Cloud so there'd be consequences.

"You killed two, shrimp, maimed two, and damaged one. Nice work. Bastards deserved it."

"I'm in trouble."

"No one's going to condemn you for it, Cloud. They were clean kills; it was self-defence, you're a minor, you were on a mission, and you're a SOLDIER cadet. Or will be in a year and a bit. The General has already recommended you," Zack smiled. It was lower powered than his normal expression, coaxing and persuading rather than overwhelming. "That is, if you want to be a SOLDIER.

"Want to be—" Cloud whispered. He could be a SOLDIER. His dream, right here. "I want to be a SOLDIER."

"Of course you do, yo. Clod-hopping country boys always want to be SOLDIER." The redheaded soon-to-be Turk pulled a gooey chocolate brownie from one of his pockets, "From Darla. I told her you'd need some comfort food."

Cloud took it, unwrapped it, and then sat looking at it. He was going to be a SOLDIER. He was going to be with Zack, and Reno. Reno was going to be a Turk, so he'd be a Turk first, but he'd also be his friend. And Descartes was dead, the gang finished. Weak and watery, but still recognizable, Cloud smiled, just a little bit, "So it's over?"

Zack smiled, gentle and proud. He leaned over and kissed those full, soft lips. "Yeah, Cloud, it's finally over."


	16. Sweet Sixteen!

* * *

The building's alarm blared reveille. For once, Cloud was awake before the noise.

_Finally, finally, FINALLY!_ He bounced out of bed.

One month and a year—done, finished. He was sixteen now, and legal. No more keeping the touches above the waist. No more breaking it off just when it was getting good. No more lonely jacking off in the shower...not that he did that too much. The idea of anyone seeing him was far too _blech_.

Just eight more hours then he and Zack could spend the night together, and the next, and the one after that if they wanted to. He smiled a large, sappy smile that his roommates were getting used to seeing on his face. It had been growing in size for the last two weeks as Cloud started the countdown to this very important day.

For over a year, Zack had been the perfect gentleman, honest and upright, and so very frustrating. Cloud had been willing to ignore the whole 'age of consent' thing but not Lieutenant Zack Fair, SOLDIER Second Class, of course not. Though that could have something to do with General Sephiroth who said, after taking one look at the two of them together, "Wait until he's legal or you'll be facing me."

The General had waived the rule that required cadets to be sixteen so that Cloud could continue with the classmates he'd started with. He'd also had Cloud bumped up to a C4 class, even though he wasn't actually in the SOLDIER specialization yet. However, he had put his foot down on this issue saying that allowing an exception here would undermine everything they'd accomplished.

What followed was one month and one year of anticipation, frustration, and endless teasing from his classmates. It seemed they all knew how he felt about Zack; well they could hardly doubt it when the cocky Second Class had jumped to his rescue during that notorious mission over a year ago. Zack had wiped his tears, kissed him, and tended him until the medics arrived. In the infirmary, the SOLDIER had stayed by his bed in case Cloud woke up with nightmares.

The teasing was good-natured at least. Life for the cadets was much better since Cloud had stopped Corporal William Descartes' gang. General Sephiroth had taken the opportunity to announce harassment of any sort would no longer be tolerated. Security Forces are trained to protect. They would start by protecting each other. To emphasize his point, he added that he would personally _break_ any cadet guilty of harassment or assault, and that, as far as he was concerned, allowing it to happen was as bad as doing it yourself.

Needless to say, it had become much safer on the grounds since then.

But that was the past. Today was his birthday. His sixteenth birthday! He practically skipped over to his cupboard to get a clean uniform. If he hadn't been sure Reno would chuck something at his head, he would've whistled.

The item placed in the dead center of his middle shelf stopped him. With a horrified gasp, he reached out, hesitantly, to pick it up. It didn't belong to him and yet, when he looked at it, it kind of did. The package read _Honeybee's Best Quality Lubricant - Non-Toxic – Cherry Flavoured_

" _Reno_!" he shouted in embarrassment. Only to be laughed at by both his roommates. His face flaming, he pushed it to the side and back of the shelf, grabbed a clean uniform, and quickly got dressed. He would just pretend it didn't exist.

Reno wasn't going to let him ignore it though. He took it out of Cloud's cupboard and put it in his pack, "You'll be needing it later, yo."

Cubby laughed and added, "The way you're bouncing, we should've gotten you two tubes."

"Assholes," Cloud muttered.

"That's your kink, not mine," the redhead quipped causing Cubby to groan, "Not before breakfast!"

At breakfast, and throughout the day, Cloud's classmates, at least the ones he considered almost friends, gave him endless suggestions of precautions to use to prevent catching the horrible disease that their sister's husband's cousin got? And would he like to hear the symptoms or maybe see some pictures? They just happened to have a couple right here...

There were pictures all right: pornographic pictures, in his binders, on the desks, behind doors. Some were full colour photos, some were crayon stick-figures, a couple were beautiful; works of art in their own right that depicted a tall, bright eyed, dark haired man, embracing a smaller, younger, blond. Those he decided to keep, even as he blushed and stammered.

Then there was the lube. Whenever his back was turned, another tube or bottle of oil would show up. Cherry of course.

The highlight of the day, at least for everyone else, happened in the locker room after PT. He'd taken a shower, and yes, some more lube had found its way into his towel. He should have known something was up by the way the aisle seemed so crowded but his mind was, as usual this day, wandering to a certain black-haired SOLDIER. When he opened the door to his locker, there, taking up nearly a whole shelf, was a great big box of condoms – a jumbo party pack of multi-coloured, multi-textured, and multi-flavoured condoms. Extra thick, for strong protection.

He just stood and looked at it. A blush darkened the skin from his forehead down nearly to his belly, especially when the crowd of boys started cheering and clapping. Reno, with his sly grin and clearly the organizer of the day-long gag, put the box in his bag along with the lube and the pictures. "You should get dressed, yo, he's probably at the door now, doing those goofy squats he's so fond of."

Cloud glanced up shyly at his roommate, his friend, "Thanks, Ren _o,_ " he emphasized the last syllable, so the redhead would know that Cloud wasn't going to reveal his secret over this.

Reno slung his arm over Cloud's shoulder, giving him a gentle neck squeeze, "Happy birthday, shrimp."

As predicted, Zack was at the entrance, doing squats, and keeping an anxious eye on the door. To Cloud's relief the General was there. This kept Zack from pouncing on him and doing something completely mortifying – like throwing the smaller cadet over his shoulder and running off with him.

Cloud came to attention, "General Sephiroth, Sir!"

"At ease, Cloud," he responded, his smooth baritone give the boy little shivers. "I understand it's your birthday today."

"Yes, Sir. My sixteenth." He was smiling as goofily as Zack, he could feel it.

"Congratulations." He looked at the beaming Second Class. "I assume Lieutenant Fair has today's celebration all arranged," It wasn't really a question, but Cloud's deep blush was certainly an answer. "Very good. I can't give you the day off tomorrow, training is too important, but I do have a small gift for you." It wasn't a very big present, but that didn't matter. It was a present from General Sephiroth. General Sephiroth was giving him, Cloud Strife, a birthday present. "For those days when one or the other of you must be away."

Zack's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You didn't," he asked horrified. Those suspicions were obviously confirmed as the young blond removed the beautifully arranged wrapping. The silver-haired warrior just smirked. "They're not even available yet." Zack protested. Amazingly, _he_ was blushing.

"I have influence." The General was definitely enjoying this. "I thought it would be appropriate. After all, you gave something similar to Commander Rhapsodos."

It was a toy—not a sex toy, thank Shiva—but a cute, cuddly plushie… of Zack. Put out by the Official Shin-Ra SOLDIER Fan Club – _100% Kid Safe!_ Cloud's eyes opened wide. He tried to choke back the laughter but couldn't.

"This is a wonderful gift, Sir. Thank you," he managed to cough out.

"Take good care of it, Cloud. You never know what it will be worth in the future." Cloud may have been only sixteen and feeling kind of giddy, but even he couldn't miss the subtext. The General gave that little quirk of the lips that very few were privileged to see and walked away.

"I can't believe he got you one of those things. Let me see!" Zack reached out a demanding hand.

Cloud pulled the plushie out of range, with a laugh. "Not a chance. It's mine."

"I just want to look at it."

"Have to catch me first," was his answer, and the cadet was off and running, "Don't forget my bag!"

Zack's quarters were in the main building, as all those of SOLDIER were. The quarters were nice, not fancy, but roomy. Zack had spent some time tidying it up and Cloud would appreciate the effort later. Right now, the only thing he wanted to look at was Zack naked and spread out over a bed. The door closed and Cloud jumped onto Zack, wrapping his arms around the taller man's shoulders, and legs around his slim waist. The SOLDIER just laughed into the mouth that came down on his, and pulled the teen in tight.

"Don't you want cake?" he asked when they broke apart to breathe.

"Later."

"Presents?" he persisted.

"Later!"

"Bossy little thing, aren't ya, Spike." Zack didn't really mind. The position was nice. He could nibble on Cloud's pretty, flushed lips, he could feel Cloud's full, hard sex caught between them, and he could run one hand down Cloud's strong back to clasp that scrumptious little ass, but the 'bossy' comment reminded him of a point he wanted to make before things went too much further.

"Hang on a sec, Cloud. I gotta ask you something."

"What now?" the blond keened.

Zack detached Cloud's limbs from around his body and stood him up in front of him, "There, I can think better now." It was kind of a compliment but Cloud wasn't in the mood to value it.

"Spike, I gotta tell you, this last year has been _excruciating_. I don't think I've ever wanted anything as bad as I want you—except for maybe getting into SOLDIER but that a whole other thing." Cloud made to speak, but Zack placed a finger on those lovely lips. _Man! They were soft_. "The point is, I'm barely holding onto my control and, as a SOLDIER, if I lose control with you I could seriously hurt you, and I don't wanna do that. So I've come up with a plan. Well, Kunsel came up with the plan after I pounced on him this morning, but I thought it was a good idea. I still think it's a good idea."

Zack realized what he'd just said, "Er, does it bother you that I banged Kunsel today? It was just a tension relieving thing."

Cloud smiled a little, "You told me that first week, about SOLDIERs and sex. I've had over a year to decide whether I could live with that. I wouldn't be here if I couldn't."

The black-haired warrior beamed, "Fuck, I love you." He couldn't resist giving the small blond a quick kiss. Maybe not so quick, but he did manage to pull away again before it got out of hand.

"Anyway..." he started again, trying to ignore the large, pleading eyes staring directly into his, "How about, this first time, you take me from behind? That way you're in control and, most importantly, you'd be safe. I won't be able to accidently crush your wrists or anything." He was talking faster but Cloud had looked away with a flash of _something_ in those amazing eyes. "What is it, Spike? Don't you like the idea?"

The cadet shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. He understood Zack's point and knew the SOLDIER well enough to know that hurting him, even accidentally, would devastate the older man. He hugged his unboxed Zack plushie for courage, "It's just..."

"Just what?" Zack prodded; trying to keep his mind on the conversation, instead of how cute Cloud looked hugging that doll.

A deep, steadying breath. Cloud needed to say it so Zack would understand. "The last time I was with a man, or anyone, was-was in the gym. Descartes," Another deep breath. The bastard was _dead_. He refused to cry. "Descartes was the last one inside me. I want you to, to, erase him… from me."

Before Cloud was finished talking, he was wrapped in loving arms, held close to a fast beating heart, and rocked gently. Zack was humming, which meant he was considering it, rearranging things in his head. The man couldn't even _think_ quietly.

It didn't take long before Cloud felt him nod, "Okay, that's what we'll do." He moved Cloud away and gave him a serious look. "I'm going to lie on my back, hands on the headboard which shouldn't break. You'll have to do all the work. I just get to watch." The serious face was replaced by shit-eating grin, "I am _soo_ looking forward to that! Does that work for you?"

Cloud had a flash of tanned, muscled flesh naked and writhing under him. It dried his mouth out so he could only nod. Zack whooped, grabbed up his soon-to-be lover, threw him over his shoulder, and charged down the hall to the bedroom. Cloud laughing out a protest the whole way. Once there, the tall SOLDIER dropped him to his feet, steadied him. "Last one out of their clothes gives the other a blow job later." He began to strip.

"Hey," Cloud protested as Zack's shirt went flying, but he was moving just as fast. A year and a month wasn't going to last a minute longer than absolutely necessary.

In the end, neither of them cared who'd been first or last, it didn't matter. All that mattered was being next to each other, touching skin-to-skin, stroking warm flesh with no limits on where their hands could roam. They'd get to slow, lingering touches later, now all Cloud wanted was to be filled, to feel Zack inside him, to watch him explode.

He crawled over the tall SOLDIER to straddle his hips. Placing his pale, small hand on the beautiful, tanned skin of Zack's hip, admiring the contrast; enjoying the change of texture and tone and he stroked his open hand down the crease until he was right next to Zack's engorged cock. Even here, the Gongagan's skin was that same deep tone, but it was flushed red in excitement. It was beautiful, and scary, and enticing, and he wanted it! He stroked Zack's taut sac lightly with his thumb. His skin was so pink in comparison.

Zack groaned, but didn't interfere. As promised, he had his hands wrapped around the bars of the headboard. He kept his eyes fixed on Cloud's face. The cadet's eyes were narrowed in concentration, his lips parted as he took quick, shallow breaths. There was a rose tint colouring those wonderfully high cheeks. Fuck, did he want to see him cum!

"Lube?" Cloud asked, and Zack shook himself out of his vision and reached over to the nightstand drawer.

He grabbed the tube, holding it away from reaching hand. "Can I watch you, um, prep yourself?"

"You want to..." Cloud couldn't imagine why.

Zack, picturing the cadet with eyes half closed, lips parted, stretching out his body to reach inside himself, replied, "Hell! Yes," so the young cadet held out his hand and Zack squeezed out a generous amount of the slippery substance. Vanilla, Cloud's favourite. He smeared it all over Cloud's pale, calloused fingers, sliding up and down them, mimicking the more intimate movements that would come later.

They were both breathing quickly now. "Do it for me, Spikey," Zack pleaded.

Cloud moved his hand down between his legs. "No, from the back. Reach behind yourself." It was awkward but he could reach. When he pushed his fingers inside, his back arched even more. He pushed deeper, scissoring his fingers to stretch the tight muscle at the entrance, spreading the lubricant along smooth walls, and finally finding and stroking that nub buried inside. He called out in bliss.

Zack stroked himself, spreading the slick stuff down his shaft as he did. The view was everything he'd wanted. Cloud's sleepy, lust glazed eyes looking inward at the pleasure taking over his body; lips flushed and full, half open as if inviting exploration. His chest had a blush on it as well, and his hard little nipples were coloured like ripe raspberries. Zack reached out one hand to lightly flick and rub the sensitive nubs, eliciting a startled cry from the cadet. Happy with the reaction, Zack trailed his hand down the centre of his young lover's body; lower... lower until he could touch that pretty, strutted cock. Cloud was whimpering. Zack smirked with devilish delight and, parodying Cloud's early action, used only his thumb to caress the blonde's engorged head.

Cloud called out, "Enough, enough. _Gods!"_ He pulled his fingers out of himself and crawled forward, "I need. I need you." He pressed desperate kisses on Zack's face, "So beautiful. I want this." He opened his eyes and smiled, a deep smile of utter contentment edged with the darker emotion of lust, "I want _you_."

"Put me inside you, Spike." He raised one lube-slicked finger and rubbed it over Cloud's pouting lips. "Fuck yourself on me," He raised his hands back to the headboard, finding a spot and gripping it tight. "I want you to cover me with your cum."

Cloud shivered, whimpering a little. Oh _yes_ , he wanted that too.

He sat up, taking hold of Zack's penis and carefully positioning it. He lowered himself, feeling the head start to slide in. He tightened in anticipation and he had to stop. He took a deep breath, consciously making his body relax, and pushed down. _That felt so good!_ His head tipped back as if too heavy for his slim neck to hold. He moaned, softly, and then pulled himself back up, up—until the tip was just nudging his entrance—and pushed down again. He let Zack's penis slide a little deeper but not much, before pulling up again.

"Oh, shit," Zack whispered in prayer. Cloud was only working the head. It was too shallow and too intense at the same time. The SOLDIER's stomach muscles tightened and his back lifted off the bed as the tension built within him. He wanted to thrust up, he wanted to push himself into his young lover until he was as deep as he could go, he wanted to be completely enveloped in Cloud's hot, tight, passage. He couldn't. He promised Cloud he could lead. Zack's mind was whiting out and he groaned in agonized ecstasy.

Cloud's body sang with joy, 'This was _Zack_ , Zack was inside him, it was _Zack_ ,' It felt wonderful, nothing like what Descartes or the others had done. Except that he couldn't make up his mind; keeping Zack's head at his entrance massaged that narrow ring of sensitive tissue, but he knew that taking him deeper would feel wonderful too.

"Oh, _Fuck_! Deeper, please," Zack's control broke, "Take it deeper. All of it. _Please_."

Cloud smiled when he heard Zack beg. He stopped, and looked at the taut body beneath him, so dark, and toned and _perfect_. The dark-haired SOLDIER was twisting slightly, fighting the urge to take over. His hands were white-knuckled on the headboard and Cloud wondered, in passing, if it really would survive. He very carefully and very slowly, placed his open hands on Zack's washboard abs and slid them up, up to cover hard little nipples. He flexed his fingers, digging in his nails a bit, knowing Zack liked that, and then he dragged them back down to where he started. Through the whole procedure, he kept his hips still, neither moving up on Zack's shaft, or down.

"Oh, fuck, please. Move. Let me... _Fuck, Cloud!_ " It was a steady litany of broken pleas and half prayers. The SOLDIER was starting to get frantic, his hips bucking slightly. Cloud rode him, not letting him get too deep.

"Watch me," Cloud instructed, and Zack opened hazy eyes, and let out a low, keening groan as his tormentor slid his hands up his own body, pulling them over his tight sac, capturing and stroking his thick cock with only a couple fingertips while the rest ran over smooth skin. He kept his hands moving upwards, sliding off his penis and letting it fall back down, leaking a small stream of pre-cum. Up and up, until he covered his own nipples.

Cloud plucked and fondled and twisted them, and watched Zack watching him. The man's dark hair was plastered to his skin. His cheeks were dark, his eyebrows drawn in a frown, his sculpted lips pouted and pleaded. His big body jerked, "Spike, I'm gonna... _Please_!"

Cloud dropped his hands back to Zack's hips, pushing them down. The SOLDIER let them be held but it was hard to stop moving as they begged silently for more. He was rewarded as the cadet smoothly and steadily, dropped his hips, down, down, gasping out little 'ohs' of pleasure.

"Fuck, Cloud. I'm gonna blow. I'm gonna..." It was a plea, an apology, a warning. Neither of them knew.

"Yes, yes. Do it," Cloud answered, rocking on the large cock buried inside him. He could almost feel the pulse beating through its big vein. "Fill me. Wash me clean."

Zack pushed up, Cloud tightened around him, and he exploded, body arching, muscles convulsing, mind drained of anything but the feel of it, the beauty of it. Shards of feeling, intense, cutting, wonderful, broke apart his sense of self.

Cloud could feel Zack's shaft pulsing with his orgasm. "Yesssss," he hissed as he felt the liquid heat deep inside his body, overflowing, coating him; burning away the last traces of Descartes and Ass Grabber, forever relegating their memories to last place. He wrapped his hands around his own turgid flesh, "Watch me," he commanded, "watch me cum."

Zack opened heavy eyelids, he could still feel the aftershocks making his body shudder, and his limbs felt leaden, but he wanted to see this. He wanted to see Cloud in the throes of orgasm. Seeing the SOLDIER's eyes half open, glowing fiercely with mako and intense emotions, Cloud pulled first one hand then the next up the length of his shaft. He started slowly, tightly, giving it a little twist as it rose. His balls drew up tight and almost painful, he was so close. His breath started to catch—he couldn't help it—he let it out in jagged little moans. He moved faster.

"Fuck, Cloud, do it. Explode. Spurt for me. Do it," Zack murmured encouragement, unsure whether to watch the blonde's beautiful face or his enticing, fat cock. He got to see both.

With a final, cut-off howl, Cloud's whole body stiffened. He squeezed Zack's penis, still hard and embedded in his body. Zack jerked in response, which made the blond spasm even harder. Thick, streams of pearly liquid gushed out landing in hot strands against already heated flesh.

"Fuck, yeah, Cloud. Cover me." He could hardly keep his eyes open, but he did, watching as pale hands pumped out every possible drop. He could see Cloud's stomach muscles, just gaining definition, convulsing in the aftermath. He could feel Cloud's passage rhythmically milking his cock, although there was nothing left in it. Unable to help himself he began thrusting up hard, riding out the waves of his lover's pleasure, sliding in the lubrication of his own semen.

It felt so _good_ , but what did it for him was watching the young blond lift one cum-covered finger to full, soft lips and suck it clean.

He'd heard of it but had never experienced it. It was a pleasure close to pain as muscles seized and joints locked. A burning, aching, second orgasm; dry, as it was too close to his last one, but even more draining. It was wonderful; it was awful. "Oh my fucking _gods!"_ he whispered, awestruck.

Cloud was swaying where he sat, licking his fingers in a blissful daze. The look he gave his lover was anything but innocent. It was full of sly pride and erotic promise. Zack forced reluctant limbs to move, finally releasing the headboard. He pulled the boy down onto his cum-covered chest, neither one of them caring as it smeared the sticky liquid all over them.

"Good enough?" Zack asked, meaning had it erased the memory of Descartes.

Cloud stretched, enjoying the post-pleasure ache in his body, "Fireworks _and_ an orchestra."

Zack chuckled to himself. He was perfectly content to lie in bed now that Cloud was where he belonged. There were things they'd do later: have cake, open presents, more sex. Then a question occurred to him, "Hey, Spike, what's with all the cherry lube?"


	17. Epilogue

* * *

Midgar was in ruins, Shin-Ra had collapsed, and after all that had happened: Sephiroth, Meteor, DeepGround, Remnants, Summons and Weapons, there was only one class: Survivor.

Of course, some might argue there was a second class: Hero.

There were those who considered him an unlikely hero. Except for the big-ass sword he carried in a fancy harness on his back, he looked too small and too young to have saved the world, but he had—three times—and he'd helped on other occasions.

In a cozy bar near the center of Edge, the city that had developed on the outskirts of what was once the capital of the world, he sat quietly sipping his drink. The alcohol would have no effect on his much-altered system but he still liked the taste. Cloud sat at his corner table, enjoying the tang of his drink, the mild burn as it went down and the quiet of the day. He let his eyes and ears wander over the other patrons.

In an odd way, listening to their stories about their normal lives helped him feel normal himself. He wasn't normal. He'd never be normal again, not that he really remembered what he'd been like when he _was_ normal. His memories had been diced and grated in Nibelheim, and then fried once for good measure when they'd been chasing Sephiroth.

He remembered being a cadet though the memories were vague: a train, noisy showers, endlessly running around a field. He remembered leaving Nibelheim because his ma was sick. He remembered Tseng in a car, but not why or what was said. Sephiroth was there, or at least his voice. That rich, baritone stroking his name and causing shivers. He didn't get shivers from his voice anymore, they'd fought each other too many times and too bitterly for the silver-haired general to have the same effect. There were other memories, all fuzzy and distant. For the most part he was content to leave them in the past.

He remembered Zack—he remembered far too much of Zack actually—although he was getting better at identifying his memories when they came up and not claiming them as his own. Some of the black haired SOLDIERs memories featured them together. It was... intriguing, seeing his own memories from Zack's point of view. He wasn't the only one who'd experienced fireworks. He was glad he had those memories even though they made him yearn for days long past and to wish, even more hopelessly, that Zack had been with him through everything. So many years, fighting, with no one to really make him feel safe.

Actually the last battle had been long enough ago that people didn't always recognize him anymore. He could walk down streets and just be normal. That was definitely okay with him. He'd never been comfortable with praise and, being mobbed and hounded for autographs by overenthusiastic crowds, had become one of his personal definitions of hell. He could remember being safe in a crowd of hundreds but feeling absolute terror when faced with less than ten, but he couldn't remember _why_. Those odd holes in his mind, again.

He got mobbed a lot less now. People still remembered, especially in Edge but it _had_ been a couple years and there _were_ quite a few world saviours hanging about. Anyway, Vincent was a more colourful and alluring hero. He was taller, older (much older!) and even more reclusive and mysterious than the blond. The media had a new target for their speculation.

He was never mobbed or begged for an autograph at Seventh Heaven. He was never asked 'what was it _really_ like to kill Sephiroth. To kill his role-model, his general, his hero—he absolutely hated that question.

The regulars never asked, they never told; they discouraged 'the tourists' as they called the ones who came to point and stare. This was _their_ bar and they were secretly proud that so many celebrities chose to hang out there. They'd call out their normal greeting to the blond haired warrior, the same greeting they used on each other. They treated the other former members of AVALANCHE the same way. Even Vincent, the latest Greatest Hero the World Has Ever Known, felt safe from the _fuss_ that so often happened in other places.

Here saviours of the world and genetically altered freaks could have their drinks in peace. This crowd even accepted minions of the former evil corporate overlord. He heard them long before they entered. His hearing was one of the things that had been enhanced. Though he really heard just one voice, a lazy, nasal drawl that could only belong to Reno, redheaded scourge and ShinRa's resident anarchist. Since he was talking _to_ someone, and since even Cloud's ultra-sensitive hearing couldn't pick up a verbal response, he knew the other person had to be his partner, the ever-silent Rude.

The Turks were here.

Cloud's mind did some odd things around the cocky Turk. Reno'd been a Turk when Cloud was a cadet, he was sure of that but he couldn't figure out why he always associated Reno with roast beef. His emotions wavered around him too: friend-enemy, trust-hate, protect-kill. They flipped so fast sometimes his head hurt with it.

They'd fought each other several times in the past. Not mock-ups or sparring, but fights to the death. At least they should have been to the death, they were skilled enough, and their weapons deadly enough, except they'd never, either one of them, taken advantage of potentially fatal openings. It was as if they didn't _want_ to kill each other. It was Barret who'd seen it, that time in the train tunnel. Until then, Cloud hadn't noticed. He still didn't know why they'd done it, but couldn't deny that they had.

Cloud had searched and searched his memories. All he'd gotten was the impression of food and, for some strange reason, office cubicles and getting his cheeks pinched. It was like there was this huge pit in his mind and all his memories of the redhead were on the far side, he could sort of see them but, no matter what he did, he couldn't convince his body to make the jump.

It bothered him. It bothered him a lot.

Whenever Reno was around he would frown at the abrasive, loud-mouthed Turk and it would _itch_ at him, like one of those bugs that burrow under the skin to lay their eggs. He was already frowning and they weren't even in the bar. He could hear them, well, _him_ , though.

"…she didn't pull out a gun. It wasn't a trap, yo. I said at the bar that she just wanted to fuck a Turk. Didn't you believe me?" A pause, probably Rude was making some small gesture that only Reno knew how to interpret. "No, I didn't feel cheap or used. Would you stop interrupting me?"

A pause for Rude's silent comment.

"Anyway," he drawled, "we get back to her place and things are heating up nicely, when she drags me into this bedroom that looks like it belongs to a ten-year old kid; all frills and stuffed animals, and I'm like ' _woah_!' 'cuz I ain't into that shit at all."

They were nearly in the bar now. Cloud could almost hear Rude lift his eyebrow. "Of course I got over it. Think I'm stupid? Don't answer that, yo," he added hastily. "Turns out all the frills? A fucking lie. That girl had more toys and gadgets in her closet than _Rufus!_ "

They finally walked in the door. Cloud didn't have to watch them to know that they each did a quick and comprehensive examination for any hidden threats. They found none of course, so they made their way to the bar, Reno talking all the time. "She liked to role-play though so she's getting undressed and she's talking in the this high-pitched, squeaky voice that she must've thought sounded like a kid but it was just really fucking annoying, and I'm starting to think this whole thing was a bad idea."

Rude had spotted Cloud in the corner and gave him a polite nod in greeting. Rude was always polite. Reno had reached the bar by now and broke off his story to greet the dark-haired owner, "Hey Tifa, Rude thinks you're looking particularly _fine_ today. Ow! Fuck, Rude!" He turned to his partner. "Does that mean you _don't_ think she looks fine?"

"Whatever, yo." He shrugged and turned back to the woman who was hiding a giggle behind her hand, " _I_ think she looks good especially when she's pouring me my usual. The brood isn't around?" he asked.

"No, Denzel's at a friend's and Barrett has Marlene for a bit." She put their drinks down in front of them.

The redhead took his drink and turned to face the room, elbows on the bar, one knee bent. He looked very casual but Cloud knew that he could snap into combat mode before you could blink. ( _How_ did he know that?) "Good, they shouldn't hear this shit anyway."

"Too bad, Rude, you gotta listen, 'cuz you're my partner." He spotted the blond in the corner, "Hey, Strife." He lifted his drink in salute. Cloud lifted his hand in acknowledgment. Reno made it all seem so easy. (All _what,_ he itched.) "So anyway, she digs through her toys, telling me in that annoying voice, that she prefers to have _both_ entrances covered. I'm impressive, but even I can't do that by myself."

"Yeah, that's why she was hitting on you at the bar too. Not that I object to sharing or anything but, no offense, I never want to see you like that."

"She had a solution. She takes out this dildo, but it's not like a regular dildo. Turns out she had it specially made to go up her butt. That's bad enough, but her anal dildo thing is coloured pink, and purple, and orange and green. I swear it looked like solidified puke. Then she gives it to me to hold so she can lube it up. Now I'm _holding_ the puke looking thing, my enthusiasm is waning fast, and then she brings out the lube. She opens it up and the stuff fucking reeks! I mean, I don't mind a light scent in my quicker-slicker-upper, but this! Cherry flavoured lube and strong enough to make _me_ puke..."

Cloud scowled and let Reno's voice fade.

Cherry flavoured lube. _Cherry flavoured lube?_ That was important. Why? He allowed his brain to process it: the smell of it, the texture, the colour of the containers. The memory popped into place and he said his discovery out loud.

"Renton Sinclair."

"Goddamned fucking _shit_!" The redhead spewed his drink out in front of himself. Everyone was staring at Cloud, bewildered. What had he said to cause such a reaction in the cocky Turk?

The former Shin-Ra cadet smiled and Reno, no last name, smiled back.

"Hey, shrimp."

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There's more. Read Forgotten and Remembered.


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